Heed the Small Voice...

Remember this link about heeding the small voice that God gives us? Yeah, well, I decided not to listen today to the horror of many I suppose. I won't bore, or should I say gross you out, with the female tribulations I've been dealing with for about SIX WEEKS & all the fun things the doctors have scheduled for me, but it's important to understand how an estrogen imbalance impacts more than just the physical as I start my story.

Let's just begin with a whirlwind trip to run errands, a dash to grab a snack for the kids at Chick-fil-A, while trying desperately to get Rebekah to gymnastics on time. Thank goodness the girl had her suit in her book bag & was able to change while waiting in the drive-thru at CFA. (Obviously at the tender age of 8, she knows her mother & how we seem to live life while hanging on by our teeth, as she is the one who has started to pack her gymnastics suit on Monday without ANY prompting or suggestion from us...I love that girl!) We actually did make it on time, so Micah & I proceeded to go to the post office & finish a few other things that needed to be done. That's when the "love wagon" began to jerk & sputter. My gas light had just come on, so Micah & I began to pray that we would make it the gas station, which we did. After running by the house, I was miserable in my work clothes, so I promptly changed into white, yes I said white shorts, and a comfy t-shirt. Of course it was comfy, because I had removed the over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder, otherwise known as the bra. Micah & I took care of our "pets" & then got ready to go pick up Bekah when Micah notices that I have something on my white shorts. Great. What perfect timing. All I had time to grab were my royal blue pajama pants with green, red, & white polka dots. They go smashingly with the matching Santa shirt, but not with my faded slate blue tee with G.R.I.T.S. (Girls Raised in the South for you yanks) embroidered in a corn-husk yellow that I was currently wearing. BRALESS...44DD's which could be dangerous projectiles if not harnessed properly...I mean I could get black eyes in a fender bender. To complete the ensemble I wore my hair up in a fun ponytail/bun held secure with a fuschia scrunchii.

Now that still small voice was telling me to change; to at least put on a bra. Did I listen? Of course not! After all, I was only going about 1-2 miles from the house to pick up my girl, & returning promptly home. I would not even have to get out of the car...yeah, right.

As I was leaving the Y and turning onto the road the car began to sputter again & suddenly pressing the gas did no good. There was NO acceleration, and suddenly no anything. The car died. All I could think of was, "Are you KIDDING me??!!" As I called the tow company owned by some people we know, my emotions began to rise a little. Seriously, my estrogen has reached points of "Towanda" (for you Fried Green Tomatoes fans) in the last couple of weeks. It didn't help to feel like an imposition on the tow-truck driver as he had to leave his kids' ballgames. (Like I planned this on purpose?) So there I was, in all my redneck fashion glory, broken down on a road near the interstate with plenty of truckers pulling into the nearby station. Thank goodness my neighbor came to my rescue & at least took the kids back to her house while I waited on the tow truck. They were spared some of the humiliation. (Her husband was going to come, but as I expressed my concern over my outfit, he promptly suggested that his wife come. Hmmmm.) My neighbors actually wanted the tow truck to drop me off at home so they could get pics of me with the tow truck in all my fashion glory. That's just what people want pics of...a plus size beauty getting in touch with her trashy side. Don't hate me because I can be a redneck HOTTIE anytime I want! :)

I wonder if Joe will be embarrassed? I should go begging for TP in this get-up for sure!