gutless

so, i recently took on a second job at a local funky nursery in town, where i get to learn all the plants that people want to grow around durango. at this point in the season, we're still getting in all of the plants from places that don't freeze, like coastal oregon and california and balmy parts of colorado. i spend most of my days moving 1 gallon, 5 gallon, and 15 gallon pots of shrubs and trees around the nursery lot. it's heavy work.

last weekend i got ridiculously ill (as in: upheaval of all my stomach's contents repeatedly, even after there was nothing remaining in my stomach), but being the stubborn freak that i am, i thought i could go to work at the nursery anyway. i arrived, only to be met by a semi truck full of trees. after a half an hour, i was exhausted.

fortunately, i got the job of removing all the ropes off the trees limbs (the branches come bundled so that they don't get ripped off in the 65 mph winds created by road travel). it wasn't long before i found myself fueled by fantasy. i was the champion, rescuing beautiful bound girls from the villainous ways of men who'd tied them to the train tracks, just before the steamroller crushed their bones to pieces.

i lasted 9 out of the 10 hours of my work day on this source of strength alone. then, seeing the crazed look in my eyes and the lack of color in my face, my employer sent me home. i dreamt of clotheslines and coal smoke.