which allegedly means detail orientation  

but exhibits itself in wildly different ways.

She bought herself a house on the water

by designing bathrooms for rich people, 

sometimes famous television journalists, 

“One,” she says, “has a show, I think.”

A show I’ve tuned into nightly for years.

I scold her for not watching it. I mean— 

she’s your client. But my sister isn’t up

past 8pm. She’s wakes at 5, checking vanity

measurements and faucet serial numbers

which she knows by heart. She can recite

her monthly sales stats and commissions— 

the girl who struggled to pass geometry now

a human calculator. Moon in Virgo, I guess.

When she borders on bragging, I remind her, 

“Um, you sell over-priced shitters to elitists.” 

She splashes me. “Well, it paid for this pool.

And that floatie your ass is lounging on.”

We were never competitive. Likely because

my Moon in Virgo worries itself with words. 

I write, teach, fussing over dangling participles

and non-sequiturs. Using what little money

I make on travelling. When my sister told

her friends I was in Switzerland the summer

I was in Stockholm and I corrected her, 

she said, “Well, they knew what I meant!” 

She said the same thing when she told them

my Brazilian boyfriend was from Barcelona.

“Whatevs,” she sighed. “I love Pablo either way.”

Yesterday she reminded me to text her husband 

of 32 years for his birthday.” Oh, right, I said. 

Joe’s an Aquarius! “I dunno,” she said. “Is he? 

Look—can we wrap this up? I’ve got a client

scheduled in like three and a half minutes …” 

It was 11:56 am. 

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