ratsonjulia

as an indication as to how utterly boring my life has been lately, the following has been a point of ponderment in my drab little life:

as part of my current post at the prison, I have to go around with a nurse for "pill call" at 3:30 every morning. she will have a tacklebox with various meds in little paper cups (the anti-depressants & psych meds submerged in applesauce, to prevent "cheeking" or hording--either for the purpose of barter with other inmates or suicide attempts. "applesauced" has become prison lingo for "gone all crazy-like")

anyway, a couple of months ago a new nurse came to the prison--rather attractive in a general sort of way.

for several weeks we did the rounds & sort of poked at each other conversationally, finding out little bits & pieces about each other.

lately, in the past month or so, we've quite warmed to one another, & she's been smiling quite a bit.

as an attractive, rather private woman in the predominately male world of the prison, she's arroused a bit of speculation as to her background, proclivities--single? boyfriend someplace? lesbian? fools around? frigid?

(those last two categories being pretty much the only two slots allowed for in this town--there are no grey areas)

the common consensus: she never smiles.

ah, but she does. & it's dazzling.

a warm, beautiful, inviting smile that, unfortunately, invariably provokes an involuntary response in the nether regions that the uniform does little to hide.

thus, for the first half of pill call we'll have a jolly sort of conversation & for the second half I'll be walking a bit stiffly, awkwardly angling my torso to disguise my sudden disfigurement.

every damn night.

this is not a problem I've faced since, hell, high school.

anyway, tonight's her last night.

c'est la vie, eh?