There is not enough bitch in the day for all the whining I'm going to do

They call it "minor preventable."

I call it "Angel got her 53' ass into a tight spot and didn't see the fucking dumpster until it popped her front passenger corner like a pop-top. Steel dumpster. Fiberglas truck. Who wins? Not Angel's safety bonus."

Joy.
The curse of Tractor 6506 goes on.

And I need to check the tires, because I think the bitch has another flat. Or two. Or five Or why not 18?


I think I need a vacation from my LIFE!

At times like this, I'm tempted to yell "God, you win! You've beat me into submission! I'll go back to a Christian church. I'll obey and live a moral life. But I'm doing it from fear of you doing even worse. Stalking me through your friends, attacking my children mentally and physically and damaging my own body were bad enough. I dread seeing what ELSE you have in store."

Is it really possible to fight an omnipotent abuser?

The Dream Fairy can BITE ME

OK, bad enough i was dreaming of driving the rig on two-lane roads from hell. Understandable, I've done enough of it lately.

So, explain the whole "I'm remarrying my husband part."
And I can't figure out which of the three churches I'm doing it in, and I can't find a changing room or my clothes or my husband or my mom or my kids.

sailorcelestial found me and started getting me on the right track.

Then Jayne Cobb turned up (dressed relatively nicely) demanding "Where the hell ya been? We're all waiting for ya." He hauled me into the proper church, demonstrated that my dress, Mudd's tux and Dollface's candy-apple red flowergirl dress were in a jumble in the back seat of my Focus. I kissed him.

So I'm dressed and I'm getting Dollface around. And this is where it gets very disturbing.
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We're finally all ready to go and my mother is an hour and forty-five minutes late. I'm just about to yell at her when Mudd woke me up.