Draggin' the Line

I normally run errands here and there after work so my weekends are free. I hadn't really been doing that this week on account of Shawn and my total lack of sleep. I had ten stops to make yesterday. I know because I had to write them all down.

I only put about 26 miles on the car and somehow it took three hours to make these stops. I did manage to get a decent bra with my coupon (and FREE underpants!) and helped to free a lady who was trapped in a dressing room. Door knob was jammed. I suggested a flat head screw driver to wedge the latch loose. Worked like a charm and all the clerks loved me for it.

Funny because I was in that store Wednesday after work to use my first FREE underpants coupon. I got snubbed by a snotty clerk because I work for a living and didn't buy anything. Yes, I my hair was shiny from sweat, not pomade. Yeah, that's a sweat rag hanging from my back pocket. And sure, those are circles and baggage under my eyes. Doesn't mean I'm not good enough for FREE underpants. Snootty clerk wasn't working yesterday.

Sit through several red lights, go here, wait in line. Wait in Line, wait in line. That's what I did ALL day. Wait in line.

Nothing drains my energy and gets me tired so fast as running errands. I was almost in two head-on collisions. That woke me up. One was pretty close. I didn't have time to look to my right to see if a car was in the lane next to me. It was either hit the jacked-up-with-flood-lights-and-testosterone-truck coming towards me... Or slam into a car next to me.

I thought my little Mazda 3 might survive a side hit and I didn't have more than a half second to think about it. I made my choice.
I quickly swerved my car to the right to avoid the Testosterone Truck and expected to hear BLAM! coming from my right side.

Nothing. I guess that car that should have been there had turned off somewhere.

This happened twice. Look, some of you don't believe in God. I'm not gonna be pushy. But with the $300 lottery ticket and narrowly escaping two head-on collisions...

You have to admit Someone is looking out for little 'ol me.