I just got a speeding ticket. It was a speed trap. It makes me so mad that I want to rip the ticket into tiny pieces then grab a semi-automatic and blast it over and over. Then burn it. Then put the ashes together with glue then shoot it out of a cannon into a brick wall then smash it with a sledgehammer. Then kick it. Put needles in it. Then burn it again.
When the officer asked for my phone number I told him "I don't have one." He said, "What?" I said, "I washed my phone this week." "Just got the new car?" "Yes, that's because the engine blew in the other one."Then I got home, and guess who thought it'd be a good night to dump over the trashcan and spread it all over the kitchen? Guess who was wrong about it being a good night to dump over the trashcan and spread trash all over the kitchen? Guess who was placed in the trashcan?
I told the officer, "See that fishing rod. I came down here to practice. You know why? Because we were going to go to Washington. But it's been one of those should we or should we not go... and YOU just tipped the scale. Thanks. Thanks a lot." Now I'm laughing at being so childish.
It is kinda funny, I've got it so pseudo bad that it's actually kinda pseudo good. Nothing really *bad* happens, but it's just me complaining about it and making things that are stupid so important - life crushing - I got a ticket, for goodness sakes. But one can be nickelled to death. This sitcom is all about irritating me to death with little snags. Lots of little gotchas. Forms to fill out. Badges. Tickets. Cell phones. Engines. Remote control dead. Dog hair. The humdrum piled one on top of the other. The inability to escape from mediocrity because of little urchins attaching here and there one by one crusting me over into a spineless pile of mush where I just want to lay there lying on the baked sand shore, open fish eyed.
2 comments:
If it makes you feel any better, the following has been your parents last few days... Daddy has been preparing to conduct his first (and I hope last) wedding ceremony in Rockport. We gleefully left for the coast on Saturday, pulling the RV behind us. As you know, your daddy gets very weak and he was beginning to have one of those spells, when in the south Texas coastal sun and moisture, we had a blow-out on the RV. It was on interstate 37, and of course on the driver's side. The heat on that highway was horrific. We slowly rolled down about a mile and turned under a small overpass where there was shade. I called our wonderful Good Sam's Club to come and rescue us. The man was from India and he had never heard of Texas! He told me that he would try to find us some help and call us back. That was Saturday and no call yet! The rubber from the tire had come off and wrapped around the RV brakes. Daddy, weak and sweating like a sprinkler system struggled, took the tire off and we both pulled on the rubber around the breaks and eventually got it loose. Daddy then got the tire back on and we took off. A few miles down the road, he saw something flapping on the RV where the blown tire had damaged the skirt. He stopped to repair that and accidentally stabbed himself with his knife. We arrived in time for the wedding rehearsal and the best man couldn't make it and the alternate was drunk. The rehearsal was chaos and we all left for a wedding supper. The wait was so long to get into the restauant that we had to have someone drive us back to the RV park, before Daddy fainted from starvation and weakness. On Sunday, we arrived at the wedding sight on the beach and someone had set up their family for the day where the ceremony was scheduled. There are many more details about the wedding, but the ceremony itself was beautiful and Daddy was so awesome that people now want to "hire" him to conduct weddings! Yesterday, we stopped by Corpus on our way out to replace our blown RV tire. On the way back, Daddy wanted to see the farm. The cotton was absolutely the best I've ever seen it. I said, "Ronnie, I really don't think you should try to pull the RV into the farm. I don't have a good feeling about this." Well... Daddy went on ahead. We were back in the hot coastal sun (not too far from where we had the blow out) and as Daddy was backing out the RV onto the highway access road, the truck's back tire went off into a drainage ditch! The truck was so twisted that Daddy couldn't even get the truck's tailgait down. There was no shade and I really feared we might just die out there. Eventually, a truck load of Good Samaritan's came along and they were pulling a fork lift! As God always does, they told Daddy that they were on their way to a job and "accidentally" took the wrong exit, and saw us stranded. They got us out! It was a miracle that nothing was permantently damaged. We went on our way and finally arrived home... blessed home... I opened the door and saw a pool of water in our family room. I looked up and the ceiling was buckling with water dripping from the ceiling. We both ran up the stairs and found the ceiling in the bathroom about to cave in, with water dripping out of it at a fast rate. Daddy got in the attic over the bathroom and found that the air conditioning drain had clogged up and there was a huge amount of water in the attic. After Daddy got electrocuted trying to fix the ceiling light to see what was happening, he finally got it fixed. We now have major ceiling damage in the house. Guess what... we are laughing! Love, Mom
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