These guys make it hard to leave for work.
I’ve lost all desire to be a teacher, and I’m not qualified to be much else. I’m too old and impatient to be a bartender again, and though I wish it paid the bills, writing isn’t at all lucrative. So I took the least likely job, the one you’d never in a million years expect me to have. I’m working as a part-time in-home caregiver for an elderly dementia patient. I know. It shocks me, too. But it pays well and it’s only a few miles from home, and since my car has been dead for several weeks, I’ve been able to walk to and from work. Uphill, both ways.
I live in a rural area; there are no sidewalks and pedestrians are treated with suspicion at best. The roads between my house and work are roads that I’ve traveled by car a bazillion times since moving back here. But there is something intimate about walking. I’m experiencing the world in a completely different way- up close and personal. The walking makes for a long time between home and work, and back again, which gives me time to adjust from dealing with my brain boggled mom to dealing with my brain boggled client. And back again. The walk home is always ten times longer. Did I mention uphill?
I’ve met animals, some friendly, some decidedly not. The opossum that lunged at me in broad daylight worked better than coffee or vodka shots to get me awake and moving. (I screamed at him and waved my arms, and he hissed at me before turning tail and walking off. Now I carry mace.) I’ve come to know the sounds and smells of the houses as I walk by them. Some have the constant sounds of soap operas; some of them even on TV. There’s cooking smells, hoarder smells and the smell of cigarettes. It’s more quiet than I expected.
It’s been a month of walking and old lady ass wiping, and I finally have enough money to fix my car. I’m glad, because the weather is getting colder and I’ve grown weary of douchenuggets in pickups screaming at me as they blow by. When I get my car back, I’ll likely drive a bit slower past the donkey that has a zebra stripe down his nose (who refuses any treat I’ve tried to feed him), the copse of bamboo that grows along both sides of a narrow side street, and the house with the big, friendly yellow lab. But I won’t miss the smell of roadkill.
The best part of walking home each day is turning into my own driveway to see my dogs in the front window, watching for me.
It’s just not the same in a car.
For a limited time, I have a few landscapes for sale inworld at a wee little shop on the Remood sim. I’m in the incredible company of Eupalinos Ugajin and Meilo Minotaur. Meilo has her stunning lace avatars available there for free.
All proceeds to benefit my depleted prop fund.
Please click the pic, this one’s better bigger. Like so many good things.
Real life woman. Virtual World avatar. Likes top shelf vodka, dominant men, blues, sunsets and playing darts. Dislikes insecurity, rap, small children and clowns. I'm either behind the bar or under it.
Whiskey Monday in Second Life
Whiskey Day in InWorldz