Tomorrow is not only BGs birthday but also the first day of fall. Not that you can tell it by the weather around here. It's freakin' hot as hades still. I have a continuous problem with wasps around here and have been stung twice in a week most recently today when I walked in the back door and grabbed something. Little shits are sneaky when they hide. Ice and tobacco are a band-aid and ease the pain a little. I wonder what, if any, good purpose they serve in this world?
All the little tiny bugs are everywhere too, even inside. I chased one down at work and smacked him on the keyboard. There has been heavy fog the past two mornings so I have to take it slow to avoid deer and whatnot. Bev said they've had mice since the corn shelling but i reckon Lily is TCB around here.
One of the things that I've come to believe with all my heart is that karma is powerful and that doing no intentional wrong and paying it forward are ways to manifest personal wellness. It will return to you when least expected which is why I try not to expect anything from ANYBODY and be tickled when a gift comes my way.
Which brings me around to police shootings. I love cops....absolutely adore the ones who care about folks and truth, justice and the American way. I know that right now they're all scared the hell to death which is an atmosphere that makes for much quicker and deadlier mistakes. The reason for this, IMO, is the media. Yes. Black lives matter. Yes, there are bad cops. It's not all about being black when your rights are taken hostage by an officer of the law. Or when they shoot you and you have a gun next to the book you're reading. The whole world is on edge from Aleppo to Charlotte and playing quick draw on either side doesn't help.
I am watching with interest as the dynamics of corporate change due to an Asian investor. It hasn't done much for the stock price which was 9 to him because "mega! buy!. The guy who brokered the whole HMA fiasco has cashed in and is probably in Fiji on MY spot leaving me to deal with Chinese bosses. Lerd. Also, in my humble opinion, at least the worker bees should know what's up. There are 5K in the Nashville area alone. There is also a new construction planned in Antioch for corporate everything as part of a project on a century farm. How sad is that.
I love my job and most of the people I work with. They are my family away from home, and most days my only human interaction unless somebody drops by the house. Patients are precious and even when they're a hot mess, they are our job. We all have stories, lerd. But because the federal government assures the patient a right to privacy, those stories are told anonymously while we regroup from the trauma of dealing with the walking wounded.
Thirty two years ago today I had been sent home from the hospital in "false" labor that ended about 24 hours later with the birth of Lauren Elizabeth Parker, aka LP and Apostrophe.
The epidural worked well and I couldn't feel my feet until the next morning. I remember Mary Stuart asking me if it was forceps or more pushing and I screamed "get it done...now!". She was wet and ugly like all babies when they're born but truly a miracle.
She is my only child and was the only grandchild until about 8 years ago. In other words, she grew up totally being the shit with her Memaw and Grandaddy. On a very long road trip to Padre Island when she was 2, I remember her sitting quietly in the back seat with Aunt Nez who had no legs, a bedpan and lasix on board. UCMTSU
Got an appointment in Jackson tomorrow. Holla :)