Que Sera Sera

A couple of moves back, (yes, I'm a serial mover) I watched with horror and disbelief as a wardrobe box containing my clothing flew out of the back of Ted's pickup truck. My underwear and other personal undergarments flew into the air and scattered across both lanes of the New River Tunnel!

Today I experienced a similar incident. Different undies. Same embarrassment.

Most  women will understand my next  statement, so listen up men! Women who are are not in a relationship or actively dating, often do not shave their legs. It's just a nasty fact. We also tend to hide, ignore, or burn any lingerie we have, cause there's not even a slim chance it's gonna be worn.
All of mine was stuffed in a box and staying in storage indefinately in light of the dating drought forecast for my future.

In the process of taking my last load to the storage unit before getting the hell of dodge, the bottom of a moving box (cheap-ass tape!) gave out, and once again, history repeated itself, and all my intimate garments strewed to the ground. The pile of lacy and satin pieces provided quite a contrast to the rough blacktop pavement they had ungraciously landed upon. I thought it was perhaps a visual of what my life had been and what it was now.

Two homeless men drinking beverages from small brown paper bags and one cigarette smoking gas station attendant witnessed my debacle but appeared to be only mildly interested, so I scooped up my stuff and quickly moved on.

Later as I as I was driving out of the parking lot, I looked over one more time at my audience. One of
the toothless men smiled and raised his paperbag high above his head in a salute to me, while the other one gave me a thumbs up.

Interesting. It crossed my mind that perhaps this was a good sign regarding my future. At this point I'd take any indicator of a change in karma.

I headed toward home with new hope and a plan to think about actually shaving my legs!

Between the lines and until next time.
Adios Florida!