fumbling and fluttering along

This morning, the funny little yellow fungi had faded into tiny orange shreds. The sky was showing signs of incoming rain, but I looked at the weather forecast (20% chance of precipitation) and decided to err on the side of over-saturation and watered the beds and the planters (the arugula and the radishes have already germinated!).

Naturally, 3/4 through my hospital shift, the only thing the people in the halls were talking about was the rain pelting down -- in part because it wasn't coming down, but falling sideways. In both directions. After my shift, I treated myself to a cup of hot chocolate from the machine in the lounge and peeked through a magazine that was so stupid I could feel my brain cells shriveling like the folds of fungi. (I like mind candy as much as the next bubblehead, but you know how there's good candy, okay candy, and corn-syrup-mixed-with-sock-lint candy? Yeah.)

The rain's eased up. The shoots of fungi have revived, upright again and back to bright yellow. Time to make lunch and find my groove...

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In news news, there are three new poems to see...
Clinging (at Escape Into Life)
Even an Empty Life Can Hold Water (at Inkscrawl)
Making Rice Dance (also at Inkscrawl)