We all have bad days from time to time, but I had the champion of bad days, the motherload of bad days, the bad day to top all bad days……
My precious Aunt had passed away. The funeral was early, and I wanted to look halfway decent, as I knew I would certainly see family and friends I hadn’t seen in ages…so I primped, primed, exfoliated, shaved, and sprayed some Endless Summer on my neck.
I hadn’t had enough coffee, which in this house is a crime worthy of at least a weekend in jail, so I poured a huge go cup and got in the car.
Rounding one of the many dangerous curves on our road, I sipped the coffee, which immediately flew up out of the cup onto the windshield and down me. I was covered from head to toe in Splenda, coffee and Italian Crème Creamer!!
I had already been crying, so this little incident caused actual sobbing as I pulled into the local drug dealer trailer park and turned around.
I washed off the coffee and changed clothes. Note that I had on shoes with heels, which makes the rest of the day become what it was…hell on earth.
Realizing I was as broke as a convict, I headed to my bank, and entered the drive through. A lady ahead of me started coming toward me, backwards! Since I had lost control of my senses, I kept driving forward, causing a small collision. I didn’t know who was at fault, but the day had started off badly, so I figured I better do what Jesus would do, and apologize profusely.
She took it well when I approached her window and asked if she was ok. Neither of us knew what had just happened, and the cars were okay, so we parted as friends.
The funeral was in two hours, so I called my sister to see what kind of flowers she had ordered for our Aunt. She said, “uh”…meaning she hadn’t ordered any flowers yet. I began babbling in several different languages, and she got off the phone to get the flowers ordered. I worried all the way to the funeral home. (She came through in a big way, thank you!)
After the funeral, which was very nicely done, I headed back to Florence to pay a speeding ticket and hopefully keep myself out of Julia Tutwiler Prison for Women. By this time, I was tired of the high heels and of course, had forgotten to bring my flip flops. My flip flops are a must. I have been known to holler “PULL IN HERE!” at Tony, just to buy flip flops, no matter what town we are in.
When I got to the counter to pay my ticket, money in hand, panting from the heat, feet hurting, dress sliding off my sweaty shoulders, a woman who moved with all the speed of cold molasses said, “You got the certificate where you went to driving school?”
“No, they just gave me a receipt.”
“Naw, they gave you a certificate. It’s checked off right here, and you can’t pay without it. You better find it, cause we don’t take money around here after four o’clock.” She said, taking a bite of a candy bar, adjusting her size sixty tank top, yawning, patting her two foot tall hairdo, and giving me “the look.”
“What do I do now?” I asked, as I slipped off my shoes and got three inches shorter.
“Weeellllllllllllll….I don’t know, but I guess you could go over the coat house and see if they can do sumpin, cause I can’t. You better hurry up.” She wallered back over to her seat and picked up a magazine and put it over her face. I could hear her smacking chocolate all the way to the door.
Now, folks, Lord knows high heeled shoes are pretty and make a girls legs look better, but they are apparently an invention of satan, spawned in hell, like ex husbands.
I crippled out to the car, went to the “coat house” and threw my purse in that plastic container you have to use before you walk through security. Of course, I beeped. I removed jewelry…. I beeped. I removed my glasses…I beeped. I took off my hell 
spawned heels…I beeped.
I yelled, “What time is it? Just pat me down for God’s sake….do a cavity search! I am beyond caring!!!!”
“Little lady, are you okay? It’s twenty to four…..calm down. Its gonna be okay!!” The security guy said, patting me on the arm.
“Just go on through…”
Now, I once heard that a woman made it into a Colbert County court room with a run over chicken taped to her thigh to use as evidence against her neighbor, but since I don’t have chickens and the only weapon I carry is my purse full of change, I went through.
In the basement, I saw about a dozen guys sitting against the wall, looking pitiful. I sat down by one of them, and asked why they were there. I was thinking I was gonna be real late if all these guys had to get proof they went to driving school!
“We are all getting drug tested, and I am about to get bad news..” one of them whispered.
“Well, maybe that will cause you to think about the drugs you have done….you got kids?” I asked, as I was practically innocent and he was apparently guilty, and admitting it.
He moved down to another chair.
I finally barged into an office, made a fool of myself, and got a paper saying I didn’t have to go to Julia Tutwiler Prison for Women and that orange is not my color.
I headed back to the twelve sandwich eating woman with the big hair, who groaned when she saw my paper, and asked me what I did with my certificate. I began to sob.
Sighing, she took my money. She gave me a receipt and told me to go find my certificate, at which time I blew.
‘My aunt is dead, I had a wreck in the bank parking lot, my feet are killing me, my head hurts, I am pouring sweat, and I just sat in a room with a dozen druggies. It will be a cold day in hell when you lay eyes on me again, Lady!!” I said, as I limped out.
I planned supper on the way home. I was in the mood for something comforting, and decided I would make a huge, messy salad with pasta and tuna and everything but the kitchen sink. I had my mouth all set for it, and a glass of moscato.
One of the kids stood in the kitchen, holding my empty tuna cans.
I started tossing trash off the counters, and demanded someone go to the Foodland and get three cans of tuna and not the cheap kind, either!
The car keys were gone…..I mean gone. Really gone. We looked for an hour, as shell macaroni boiled on the stove and dogs crawled in and out between our feet….hungry and worried that something was wrong.
Something was wrong…my keys had been tossed in the trash along WITH the trash. They were covered in coffee grounds and a potato peel was entangled in them. I sent a family member to the store.
Finally…………….
I ate supper and fell over on the couch. I tried to read……I tried to face book..I tried to talk to my husband as if he were a 
fellow human being.
I took four Ibuprophen…..then I started to laugh. Hysterically.
I had made it through the day, I had my jammies and my flip flops, and a glass of white wine.
And I had my family and my dogs. All was well at Wit’s End…..then, I heard my phone ring………………………..I let it ring…………….and I went up to bed. I never thought snoring would be a beautiful sound….but right then, it sounded like the angels were singing in Heaven…………………..
