Where todays go when it's over.
Today is my last day on the Beach Job.
Tomorrow, I could be anywhere.
I am sad...I'll miss the people, the dogs, the occasional cup of tea with friends, the Mondays off, the near-constant sight of Long Island Sound.
I won't miss being shaken down for Christmas tips (the regular carrier fancies himself quite the hard man, given his years of union stewardship, and my floater acted as a go-between, so he's got a stocking of...coal...coming too.) I won't miss the people who park in front of mailboxes (most of them had no acquaintance with the actual customer, so yes, I got out of the truck every time.)
Today, the beach.
Tomorrow? Anywhere. There's nothing in my preferred station, true, but the last time I just bounced around for a week, good things happened.
Tomorrow, I could be anywhere.
I am sad...I'll miss the people, the dogs, the occasional cup of tea with friends, the Mondays off, the near-constant sight of Long Island Sound.
I won't miss being shaken down for Christmas tips (the regular carrier fancies himself quite the hard man, given his years of union stewardship, and my floater acted as a go-between, so he's got a stocking of...coal...coming too.) I won't miss the people who park in front of mailboxes (most of them had no acquaintance with the actual customer, so yes, I got out of the truck every time.)
Today, the beach.
Tomorrow? Anywhere. There's nothing in my preferred station, true, but the last time I just bounced around for a week, good things happened.