I got nuthin' again today, friends. Yellowstone Park is not cooperating with my schedule.
I found a pile of bison poo with a pen stuck in it.
Someone who thinks like me must have passed by.
And we will never meet.
It continues to rain and I continue to work.
But I didn't miss the honor of telling 4,352 people where the ceremony was being held.
Those greedy, eBay fanatics, future Hoarders stars, swarmed all over the place and lugged baskets of the quarters home with them.
I could care less than less, but my friend Ken entrusted me with $10 to get him some quarters and the hubby wanted a roll and bleah again.
Rumor has it that employees can buy some tomorrow, but I work at 6:15 a.m. I will give it the good old Yellowstone try.
Made a disturbing discovery today.
Young people can't tell us apart.
Really. Cross my heart bra, really.
I work with Rose at the front desk of the Old Faithful Inn. She's petite, perky, blond, cute, and has a killer Tennessee twang. I am NOT petite, NOT perky, NOT blond and definitely don't have a southern accent.
I left out cute. I'm not that either.
But the young guests think we're the same person.
Another case in point. Always wanted to use that phrase. What does it really mean, anyway?
Going through the cafeteria line tonight, one of the young servers looked at me, and said "Debbie!"
Sadly, I knew who she meant. At least Debbie is my height, wears glasses and could sort of kinda look like me.
We are the Cheshire Cat's smile.
Just another senior citizen tottering down the highway of life.
Stop me now.
Might as well pack it up for now. Roomy had a screaming night terror again last night. Maybe that's it for another few days. Pray for me.
My nerves are shot.
There are deep pools here....a person could slip....