{"id":5610,"date":"2019-12-11T07:02:13","date_gmt":"2019-12-11T15:02:13","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/?p=5610"},"modified":"2019-12-11T07:02:14","modified_gmt":"2019-12-11T15:02:14","slug":"rv-park-christmas-part-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/meditations\/rv-park-christmas-part-2\/","title":{"rendered":"RV Park Christmas (Part 2)"},"content":{"rendered":"<!-- wp:themify-builder\/canvas \/-->\n\n\n<p><em>Daisy. Daisy. Daisy. <\/em>She\nsaid to the herself as she glanced in the rear-view mirror driving to\nwork in silence. A trace of rain provided the soundtrack. She wore\npreposterous blue scrubs decorated with snowflakes and a creepy\nsnowman, a white elephant gift, but at least they were clean.\nEverything else in her Charleston studio apartment was dirty and\ndisheveled. She didn&#8217;t care. She barely spent any time there and\nmostly lived out of her Volvo wagon and the hospital locker room. She\nhadn&#8217;t met a single occupant of her complex in three years. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>What had happened?\nDaisy was still a damn good nurse at 32, but passion for the job\ndrained away several years ago, and she never knew why or when it had\nbegun. She couldn&#8217;t recall taking the gig in Coos Bay. She&#8217;d also\nforgotten why she even became a nurse. She barely remembered the time\ntesting positive for heroin and nearly lost her nursing license. The\nwork paid well enough, but Daisy always blew her savings on trips to\nexotic sunny locales with colleagues she never hung out with in Coos\nBay. Upon her return, the tonic from these vacations typically\nevaporated in a few days, and then she was busy planning another\nadventure to resorts where enslaved monkeys and parrots entertained\nthe guests. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The assignations\nwith dull and dipshit doctors comprised Daisy&#8217;s personal life, except\nfor infrequently fishing alone for salmon or renting a quad and\nracing buzzed through the dunes. Her parents were dead and her only\nsibling, a younger brother, was in the Army and stationed in Japan.\nShe hadn&#8217;t seen him in years. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Daisy had a serious\nboyfriend, once, a few years ago, when she was a nurse in Tillamook.\nShe met him when he showed up with a broken leg from an ATV accident\nand asked him out. He&#8217;d blown it with a reclusive nature, but\nrecognized his error, apologized, and vowed to change. He was\ndesperate to try. He loved her in a taciturn way she didn&#8217;t\nunderstand. Daisy never gave him a second chance and never told him\nshe&#8217;d aborted their child a month after they broke up. \n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Daisy. Daisy. Daisy. She said to the herself as she glanced in the rear-view mirror driving to work in silence. A trace of rain provided the soundtrack. She wore preposterous blue scrubs decorated with snowflakes and a creepy snowman, a white elephant gift, but at least they were clean. Everything else in her Charleston studio [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5611,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[43,5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5610","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","category-meditations","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5610","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5610"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5610\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5613,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5610\/revisions\/5613"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5611"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5610"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5610"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5610"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}