31 July 2009
My mouse has died.
No, not a real fleshy, bloody mouse, which you might be able muster some sympathy for, but my wireless computer gadget that makes me
love my laptop. I, sadly, feel I must now retire my usage of said laptop until someone goes and buys me a new one.
I am waiting...
You can have your TGIF. For a person who is a**-backwards like I tend to be, I'll take DGIF. The "D" stands for "Dear", just in case you were trying to insert your own adjective. I am fortunate enough to be a non-working person during most of the week, only to be confronted with two hideously long shifts on the weekend. Now, I still know that I am fortunate beyond my wildest dreams, but I tend to forget that on Friday afternoons. So, for my own personal enjoyment and succor, I have decided to institute a Feel Good Fridays segment on my blog thing. I will post anything that makes me happy and helps me crack a grin before I head back in to the world of non-poverty. Because I like the paycheck, but I would rather they just GAVE it to me. Stay Tuned...
30 July 2009
Ran into this brilliant motivational poster on the internet yesterday, and didn't exactly know what to do with it. Now that I am officially blogging, I guess the time has come for me to share. I think it is time for a few things to change in this world, and here's why...
A weekend off for me is a big thing. No, actually, it is THE big thing. Having a sater daeg free from the constraints of patient care is an excuse to pack up the woody and head, well, somewhere else. So here, recorded for all of mankind (or the hapless googler searching "woody" or "Anglo-Saxon days of the week") is my adventure... Ok, I know it isn't "technically" the sea, but,....whatever. Enjoy your pseudo-trip to Urbanna, Virginia.
I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
John Masefield (1878-1967)