The Lucky Penny -- Part 1

To denote the urgency and immediacy of this experience, I will try to write this in the present tense. I know my tenses are all over the place on this blog. It's experimental writing at this point. I don't really know what to do with. People keep asking me what I'm doing and where I am, and this is the easiest way for me to make it all visibly tragic or hopefully inspiring. You decide which. It's like a lucky penny. Do you pick it up if it's on the heads side or the tails side? Or do you pick it up because the goal is to "make money every day"? A penny is money. And then you think that maybe the good Lord put that penny in your path to make you stop and think about what the heck it is you are doing way out here when you want to be with your family back home but then you realize you haven't got a home. The Godspeed RV is your home, so you keep trucking along.

But, I digress. Here's the recent installment in 1st-person present tense POV...

People don't read any more. That's the message I got from a lengthy article I'd pulled from some reputable source at 2:20 on Sunday morning as I tried to tire my eyes and quiet my brain so I could fall back asleep.

Scratch that. I said "present tense." Sorry...continue....

People don't read any more. The message from the lengthy article on the reputable source tells me that at 2:20 in the morning as I struggle to quiet my brain and tire my mind. I just want sleep. Essentially, the article suggests that best-selling authors aren't making money on traditional books anymore. There goes the RV Chronicles tome, my 4-book series. I need the alone-time to restructure, revise, and edit. Once that's done, I can put it out there so my audience of 13 (sometimes 18) can support my wandering.

I bookmark the article. I'll come back to it. The article stressed that the same author--a romance author!--is the only one with seven books on the top-seller list and is a consistent producer. The key is consistency, I think. Being consistent. How to be consistent in writing? In life? I ponder this for a moment, hoping the thought will drift me toward something resembling a dream.

Do seniors have less dreams? What happens to the aging mind? I'm not a senior yet, but I don't feel like I did in my 40s.

Not wanting to chase down another thought-path in the middle of the night, I reach for my phone for some bland societal entertainment.

So I flip between Twitter and Facebook, comparing the difference in news and 1st-hand sourcing. It's like night and day. My Twitter feed is filled with 1st-hand news sources--the makers, shakers, and quakers. My Facebook feed has the feel-goods & funnies, pictures of my friends, and random fluff. I stay on there awhile before I realize I'm being sucked into its world. I should be asleep.

I flip over to computerized Mexican Train and play the first round of tiles. The number 12. Playing the tile number 11 round, my phone tumbles from my hand. I wake, find it, and set it on the bench. The night is chilly, so I pull the covers loosely about my shoulders and snuggle into my pillow.

At 4:10 the rooster crows from the phone. Someone's got to let that bird out, so I flip over, drop my hand to the bench, and push the screen to snooze. I'll get up. The snooze is just-in-case.

I reach down and pet Buena before getting out of bed, put water on to boil and check the temperatures. It's in the upper-40s now but will reach the low-70s by this afternoon. I'll dress in layers, I think, planning to remove the thermal leggings, sweater, and fleece jacket as the day warms up. I think about what a perfect day it would be to go hear music at the cabana bar. I don't want to be stuck inside doing inventory, but--hey! It's a temporary job and I'm learning lots.

At 4:45, I park in the vendor line at the London Bridge Swap Meet. As I sit there, I think back to everything that happened over the past two days:

Friday -- my last day at the resort and the trailer incident

• Picking up from the The Rest of the Trailer Debacle...Super Fun Steve follows me to the Godspeed

• I try to get the grease and oil off my hands before changing into the resort work uniform

• Tow trailer to SFS's house

• Rush to health food store to pick up smoothie on way to resort.

• Help customer with product as new owner is very new at health food and still learning the naturopath way. I'm from an old line of naturopathy as I lived with my grandfather and have been learning and doing this my whole life, so I sell the customer some Bragg's cider vinegar.

• New Owner asks, "Do you want a job?"

• We interview on spot and I get offered job.

• I say "I'm a snowbird. I'm temporary."

• She gets it. I'm hired.

• Off to work at resort.

• Bittersweet feelings about leaving this place. I like the people and the business model, but the corporate messaging doesn't always match what happens at the ground level. It started getting to me. That's the main reason I quit. Also...because Havasu is starting to warm up and I need to get my solar panels put on before it gets too hot to get on that roof.

• Finish work at 10:30, clock out, go home.

Saturday -- waking early to get tires installed, 40 papers to grade weighing on my shoulders, first day at health food store, prepping for Swap Meet

• I'm not even going to get into all that other than to say:

The tire place cannot install the tires because "you only have three lug nuts on each wheel, ma'am. In order for us to put on tires, we have to have a minimum of four lug nuts. And you have the old kind. We don't carry those in stock because that's an old axel. These days the screws are mounted to the base. See? Like this," he says pointing to a vehicle with a "new axel." So, I drop the trailer back off at Super Fun Steve's house with a pair of brand-new tires mounted on rims in the back. I cannot tackle mounting those today, and I pray they are not stolen before I can get back to the trailer.

Today is Sunday.

Sitting in the vendor line, I try to plan my day. The only real obligations are the16 papers to grade and working inventory. That will be do-able. It will just have to be a Red-Bull evening. In less than 24 hours, it will all be over.

I power through the day like this:

• 04:45 -- in line at Swap Meet and I'm surprised at being so close to the start of the line, considering that both the Pyrotechnic Show and the Rockabilly events are happening this weekend. You'd think every vendor would be here wanting those event-population dollars.

• 06:30 -- pay $20, gain entrance, find booth spot

• 08:00 -- all set up and waiting for Brenda and Merry to arrive with the canopy, anxious to sell my stuff and Merry's work. Merry has also made some amazing playing-card holders and bowl nests (those things you put a hot bowl into so you can safely hold it or set it somewhere). The rest of the booth is filled with the rest of the stuff from DreamGiver's Curio Shop, in addition to my recent $575 investment in obsidian knives.

• 08:40 -- pick up medium order of hashbrowns from Carl's Jr.

• 09:00 -- clock-in at health food store and begin inventory process. I start at the tea section. I like tea. I wish I'd brought my tea. I need caffeine. "Go try a natural energy drink," the other gal says. What is this? I scratch my head like a caveman making fire for the first time. I drink it and power through inventory.

• 10:15 -- Brenda calls, "Pyra, are you sure you want to sell those knives at these prices? There's a lot of people looking at them, but no one's buying. These people don't want to pay that much." I know the worth of these hand-crafted knives. I won't take anything less.

• 13:15 -- (1:15 p.m.) I gotta go! I say "I really must leave to help take down the Swap Meet tent." This works because everyone else has already somehow managed a break. Now it's my turn.

• 14:10 -- Merry's pick-up truck and my car filled with remaining product. No knives sold. Other stuff sold.

• 14:15 -- leave the Swap Meet to unload only necessary stuff out of the vehicles.

• 14:36 -- on the way back to inventorying, stop by BJs Cabana for an actual break and listen to a few songs from One-Eyed Romeo, the band dujour.

• 15:03 -- clock-in at health food store, obtain second all-natural energy drink, and return to inventorying.

• 15:54 -- my co-workers are getting squawky about long-day, dinner, etc. etc.

• 16:17ish -- new owner declares, "Everybody leave. Rome wasn't built in a day. We'll get this done another time."

• 17:00ish -- back in the RV, open computer, fire-up internet, arrange the student work in color-coded tabs to show shortest to longest, and dig into grading.

• 22:30ish -- I'm actually done...without the use of Red Bull. In reflection, it wasn't painful grading like it sometimes can be. I found the student's creative works to be somewhat insightful and well-written. I know they don't appreciate my careful reading of their work and calling out of the bull$#1+ now, but--hopefully--some of them will see I actually tried to get them to think about story-writing principles and supporting academic assertions with evidence and rationale.

• 22:31ish -- It's not even 11 p.m., and I have time for my own uninterrupted and creative thinking about things. Something about REM sleep caught my eyes today, so I use DuckDuckGo to do a search. I open up and bookmark four tabs for later reading. It's been so long since I've had good REM sleep. I need to know what's going on and how to get back there. I want to see that canyon dream again....