Forgetty Betty


Less than a month left. Twenty-four days, to be precise. I breathe in, breathe out and keep the feet moving. 

I gave notice at work.

I’ve lost my keys a half dozen times and drove off with my phone on top of the car, but the amount of things I’m getting done is amazing. I’m pulled too thin but don’t know a better way than just keeping my head down and making it happen. 

There is a little red haired gal that I keep thinking about, I met her about six months ago when I was flying at the gliderport.  I couldn’t take off, wasn’t enough wind, there was a deep orange sunset happening and we were the only people out. I was trying to empty the sand out of my wing from a beach landing I’d had earlier and she came down to the cliff edge to help me. I discovered that she was also the gal I had noticed a few weeks before that showed up riding a Ducati Monster. 
We met briefly a couple other times and each time I find something else better about her.. She likes classical literature, has a penchant for organic, local food, is a fellow pilot and doesn’t have a TV. She has  piercing, intelligent clear blue eyes, a smile like sunshine, a swagger and unfortunately, I just found out,  is straight. 
Swing and a miss. 
Ahhhhh. Alas. 

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