Is there a difference between a speed bump and a speed hump?
Why have I never noticed this sign before?
This seems rather dangerous since it is in a no parking zone.
I guess you gotta hurry so you don’t miss your flight?
Who is in charge of coming up with sign wording? More important, can I please have that job?
Am I the only one who finds this hysterical? Maybe I just need coffee.
Hehe. Speed hump. In the thru lane. Wait! It’s not a no parking zone. This changes everything! Do you have to have a handicapped sticker to partake? And what purpose does the tow truck driver serve in this scenario? Do you speed hump while he is towing your car? Is that an extra charge? How long does it take to speed hump? Maybe it’s a flat rate.
So many questions. Too few answers.
I’m just glad my checked bags were under weight.
Speed hump. Hehe.
I’m not saying not saying I should demand a refund… but…
There are signs and notices everywhere. They eventually blend into the background, and we are left with a colorful world of words and images we don’t even acknowledge, much less heed their advice.
I have a motor running just under the surface. It is like an internal voice, quiet at times and menacingly roaring at other times. Imagine a mild anxiety that never completely quells but can slide seamlessly into full-blown panic without warning. This is my little motor. Constantly telling me to hurry up and figure all this out. Hurry up before it is too late. Hurry up before you miss it all. Pay attention. Nope, wrong way, you turned the wrong way! You are missing it!
I am not quite sure what it is I am missing, but it is IMPORTANT! LIFE AND DEATH! hmmm. Probably not. It is just the little part inside of me which remains so fearful of making the wrong choice. It is not a fear of failure, or even a fear of loss. It is simply a fear of choosing wrong.
So, I look to the world to give me a sign.
I may be invited to come along and park, but I am the one assuming all the risks. I am not sure what these risks are and they must be grave indeed. They posted a sign every few feet in this parking lot. Avoiding some unknown litigation can be alleviated by posting a sign? It is not like I have a choice, I have to park somewhere. After all, I am sleeping in this hotel. Warning noted. I must admit it does leave me feeling a little less welcomed.
This notice left me wondering about the history of this eating establishment. What on earth happened? What manner of foul play necessitated this kind of post? Those darned eleven year olds. The magic age must be twelve. The possibility of injury for the littles is a bit concerning. Only the unsupervised ones though. I wonder is in that Orange Chicken.
Photo by: Tracy Spencer
Finally, there is this sign. I needed this reminder. It is okay for me to just be me. I can dance if I want to. No one ever claimed I was one of the ducks walking in a row. I was always the one messing up the procession. I like to be the dancing duck.
I can take a step back from the motor and give myself a break. I am doing a good job. I am slowly but surely figuring it all out. I do not have to know where I am going to be fifty years from now. I just have to do the best I can today.
Why would you ever tell someone this? 
The Accidental Boxer 