It’s A Good Thing God Loves Me

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I am starting this week that never seemed to end with “It’s a good thing God loves me.” That is the comment I will lead with.

Now, for all of you out there in movie land called life and you were caught in the hellish spitfire bumper to bumper backed up traffic that turned a half hour trip home into a three and a half hour trip through the fiery pits of hell before getting home. Why do you ask? Well then, let me just tell you. It was all because of one of those worlds dumbest criminal stories. My, and you’re too I guess, drive from work to home that should take maybe a bit of time as it was traffic time going home, was put on the back burner with a slow cook to tenderize our heated heads in what can only be called deadlock terror. I cannot emphasize loudly enough or strongly enough the heated arguments and screaming matches in my car alone, leaving out everyone else in this slow ride from hell to home. And in my car, it was just me. I was alone and had a screaming and highly volatile cursing mutiny with myself and this city, this province, my job, God, and all of you out there that cannot drive; which at that moment was everyone except me, because as you know, my driving is perfect(ly insane).

And to add a bit of fun to the mix, all of you out there walking your cars around me and thinking I was a crazy person as you looked in my car and realized there was no one there; yet I seemed to be yelling at someone; well, you’re welcome for the show I put on just for your benefit. And if you bought that I have the swamp land for you.
Here is a random thought crossing my frontal cortex part of the brain just now. What in the name of God’s green earth possesses people on the highways these days? I am going to work yesterday and I now have to leave in the middle of the night (7 am) to get to my work about a half hour from home to reach my job by 8:30. I cross a short highway route to the big highway to find it bumper to bumper dead ass dragging as it inches along at about ten feet every ten minutes or so. I come upon the problem about what seems like halfway through my day to find that a tiny little truck touched a small car and the world as we know it ceased to exist. I mean for crying out loud, they were now on side of the road awaiting media attention and police cruisers and helicopters as far as I could see. Both parties seemed to be able to move freely with nary a mark that was visible to the eye on either vehicle. And from this catastrophe in the eyes of a couple of idiots as far as I could see, I was once again late for work. My half hour drive turned into almost two hours and all because Fred and Wilma decided they needed to be on the six o’clock news as two of this town’s stupidest driver times two.

Oh, road rage is such my friend most days; as without it, I would be ever lost on the streets of the world today.

And I am on to the newest in my repertoire of happenings at chez Maureen. I love to use these different words and get really excited when they actually appear in the sentence and have the right meaning. Just today I woke up with the feeling of my life is not exactly where I had pictured it to be. Dream a little dream they said. It will be they said. See it and I can have it they said. I really want to talk to the ‘they’ in question about what ‘they’ are giving me. There is not one thing in the picture of my dream that matches what they have given me, not one item or color or word. I mean really, money is green, houses are big, staff are missing, vehicles not what I ordered. This mail order stuff is for the birds. And that is a whole new can of worms.
I ordered this hip strapless, backless, wireless bra in a cup size c. I thought there would be plenty of room to swim in this thing. It comes and it barely covers my nipples and the gel and glue that holds it in place is not anything like the picture I had in my head of the new hot me. Instead of this sexy pulling in and up; I get the squeezed together misshaped blob of jelly that still hangs to my knees. Do you think I am going to be able to pull that off and get laid? Well, neither do I unless you are one sick bastard who is blind and stupid; I am not getting laid with this new look, either in my head or reality. My dreams around this sexy new hot mama have turned into reality and sleepless nightmares.

To the happiness that was my morning today. I like my hair when it is curly and red. Thus, I am at the grace of perms and colors. I do not have a problem with this for the most part, except for earlier today when I found out just how many chemicals I may be putting in my hair. I was about to squirt the color into my hair and accidentally got it in my eye. And yes, I did say ACCIDENTALLY SQUIRTED IT IN MY EYE. I would love to tell you exactly how this mistake even happened; but as the burn in my eye was so great and I was so preoccupied with trying to get the slippery red dye covered gloves off so I could cease doing everything except for splashing very tepid water at my eyeball for what seemed like an eternity; I have forgotten the process of how this actually happened.

Random things are happening to me almost daily and today there is a tiny part of me is wondering if they have always happened and I just ignored them or used my drugs through them. For instance, the day before yesterday both my elbows started hurting like they had ‘owies.’ After looking in the mirror I find I do have said ‘owies’ on both and I don’t know what or when this happened. Looking for a solution led me to ask my husband if maybe I am sleep crawling on my hands and knees at night, but he did not think that likely. Had he have just went along with that; I would not be still here stewing over the moments I lose to my memory. I would try to remember if these things may have always happened to me but that would be pointless. I cannot even remember how I got the skin tore off my elbows within the last few days.

Do I want to be concerned about these things? Not so much. I am just going to walk around deluding myself that these ‘happenings’ are just normal for me. Should they get any worse or happen more often; I will have to look at doing some really radical and safety conscious efforts to get my world ready for the future should I want a future. It will be much like child-proofing my whole life. The bracelets with my address on them for when I get lost (one on each arm so when I lose one I will still be taken to safety), trackers on my phone for when you think I am lost, alarms on the doors so you know when I am leaving and can ask where I am going and of course to alert you in the middle of the night when I go sleep crawling, putting all the knives in locked drawers (that should probably be done now as I cannot seem to use them now without cutting myself). And the absolute necessity of all; the babysitters and drivers to keep me off the roads and remind me of whom I am when I forget. Please, I beg for your kindness, make them good-looking young men so that I can at least look like a cougar in my late of life.

Throughout all of this; my life as I know it has been a parade of finer times, the revenue of gifted moments from a mind well used at times, and forgotten times that may or may not contain information that would bode me well today.

And as I close for this piece; let me leave you with a thought to ponder. If I remembered every moment of my life and did everything perfect and right; would the outcome have been different, or has the outcome already been preplanned by a force greater than me? If this is the case, do I now get to live however I want to know that the end result will be the same? It may (absolutely will) change the way I live and view my life as I go forward with the days and weeks and months and years in front of me. Now that sounds ominous and long and tiring. I should and will close for now.
I have been away and out of the loop of my blog for a bit, but am now ready to push this forward and get back to doing the weekly charms once again. I hope I haven’t lost many of you with my absenteeism of late. And we will once again go with the proven adage of if you enjoy the read that is my life; please like, follow, share, and even comment. Enjoy the day and the week.

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About the author: Maureen Everick

I am 54 years old or young depending on the weather, my body, home, Google, the moon, my husband, and many other details in my life. I have a great job as a Registration Clerk for Blood Collection; but still want to win the lotto and retire now.
I am a recovering addict and recently (in December) celebrated six years clean. I truly know how grateful I am to be alive and how much loyalty and honesty and positivity mean to me. And yes, positivity is a word. I checked with me.
Thank you for coming to my blog and sharing my life with me through the positive to the funny to the shake your head ‘seriously’ moments. If I post anything that makes any part of your day better; even a moment; I am grateful for that. In this world today any reason to smile or laugh is positive.

2 comments to “It’s A Good Thing God Loves Me”

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  1. Shannon Farley - November 16, 2017 Reply

    Fred and Wilma on the 6 o’clock news..gave me chuckles..thank you for being ready to write again..

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