Friday’s five

Off to work – Friday’s five
1> “I hate my family.” (Virgo)
2> “I want your life.” (Virgo)
3> “You’d never guess, but I’m pregnant again.” (Aries) [Wasn’t me, \\that much\\ **is for sure**.>
4> “Walking along without a shirt on? Getting tan all over?” (Pisces)
5> “I’m glad I look so good on my driver’s license picture.” (Sagittarius)

I reversed my afternoon walk, after a successfully unsuccessful morning. Tons of e-mail was lined up, answered some, gave up, looked outside, decided that’s where I needed to be. I’ve been struggling with one particular description of a sign, and I never did succeed with that one, but I did turn out some other stuff I was proud of. Comfortable with, anyway. So I’m still trying to get a handle on this one sign, trying to figure a new way to present old material. It’s the challenge, write something new about something that’s old.

So off I went towards Barton Springs Pool under an indifferent sky, sometimes cloudy, sometimes sunny, and got in a quick dip and swim, then backtracked up to the post office, downtown. Along the way, some girl waved at me from the front of a red VW bug. I have no idea who it was, maybe just a friendly stranger. Then, I figured I would stop by Ruta Maya, only the place has changed again, at least, it has a new name. It was right before I went into the coffee house that I ran into that Pisces girl, #4. I can’t remember her name, nor, could I even remember where she worked. However, the way my brain works, I can tell you where her Sun and Moon [plus some other placements> in her chart are.

I shrugged on my shirt long enough to chat with someone in the coffee place and note the name change, then it was back about my business. I was disappointed to hear that the bulk tapes I buy might no longer be available in format that I’m used to, my special, 20-minute tapes apparently are no longer stocked. Guess I was the only person buying that length [instead of 15 minutes>. Guess that was the sign for the day.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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