I had a hellish week at The Asylum. Sparkles didn't get back into town until Thursday and it was busier than a one legged hillbilly in an ass kicking contest. I mean.. it wasn't the kind of hellish I used to have when Bossholio was there, but between having to socialize with the CEO (who only remembers my name because he once caught me walking around with a lime green sticky note, with the world "REJECT" attached to my forehead, compliments of Lulu) and being short a person, it was a challenge to keep up. By five on Friday I had a serious case of fry brain. I started my second shift at the "let's buy things off the t.v. or maybe just call and bitch at people because we already spent all our money on stretchy pants" channel with limited mental resources and by the time I finished THAT shift, I was toast.

I think that's why I love that zombie show so much, I can relate to the brain dead on a personal level. 

I got up sorta early on Saturday morning, after going back to sleep like three times. Mayhaps I was a tad bit tired. The plan was to color my hair, hop in the truck and head to Big City to visit Ma, pick up some grub from the healthy food grocery and stop at the big chain drug store with initials for a name. Let's call it The Gimics and Drugs Store.. or for short, The GD Store. I was in search of both wrinkle cream and diet pills. 

The GD Store ended up being my first stop. I had a coupon for $2 off skin care and I'd been reading up about Retinal ever since I had the TWENTY FREAKIN' MINUTE phone call the other night from a customer who wasn't even buying anything but went on and on about the importance of using Retinal on your face. (Remember, my calls are supposed to be under 210 seconds. She had me in deep doodoo.)

The particular formulation I wanted to try wasn't sold at WallyWorld, nor did The GD Store have it in their house brand. 


So anyways, I scored the wrinkle, dark spot, been beaten with an ugly stick since birth cream and headed over to the fatty fatty two by four aisle. I'd been doing research on the innerwebs, trying to find something without any stimulants that would help block the absorption carbs or help curb the craving for carbs. 

Hunger isn't my problem. I just eat. I've been really concerned since taking the second job that with my sitting at a desk for 8 hours a day then coming home and sitting for three more hours at night, I was going to end up having to cut a new front door before long. 

After much reading, I'd come up with a few possibilities. There's a new product on the market made from white kidney bean extract that blocks carbs from being absorbed but it's nearly impossible to find. I also found several articles on taking supplemental magnesium. Apparently, a magnesium deficiency will cause a craving for carby things AND is fairly common among those of us with... as TA and I refer to it around the house.. The Betiss. (We differentiate between the two as the Fat People Betiss, type 2 and the GaGa Betis, type 1 or.. born that way. We are fully aware that we ain't right.) The B vitamins were mentioned a bit and there were studies involving Zinc, Chromium and a exotic African fruit too, so I didn't really know what I was looking for. I just knew I needed something. 

Down at the GD Store they keep all diet related crap locked in a cabinet with a big ass red button that says, "press for service." Now, being a woman of ample bee-hind and a pretty active anxiety disorder, seeing a button like that strikes fear in my quivering heart. I tried to read labels through the glass, but I wasn't having much luck. Eventually, a youngish employee walked up and asked if I needed help. I quietly asked, "If I hit this button, will an automated announcement blare over the intercom like, "FATTY NEEDS ASSISTANCE ON AISLE 6, FATTY NEEDS ASSISTANCE ON AISLE 6?"

She looked at me like she wanted to laugh, but I'd broken out in a sweat by this point and I was probably a little scary looking. "Oh no ma'am, it just lets us know to bring a key."

"And how does it let you know?"

"An alarm rings in the back," she stated confidently.

An alarm? Really? I just looked at her. 

"Would you like me to go get the key?"

"Could you?" 

She scurried off, probably thankful to get away from me. Soon a tiny blonde bimbette returned with the key. She unlocked the cabinet and while I stooped to read the labels on the bottles, she stood over me with her arms crossed and watched me like a hawk, her baby blues boring a hole in the back of my head. 

After the 15 most uncomfortable seconds of my life I put the box back in the case and turned to her, "You know what? Never mind. Thanks anyway." I turned and left as she heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes. 

I took my wrinkle cream and got the hell out of Dodgeola. 

I stopped at the auto parts place for wiper blades. Mine were so old they had a big strip hanging off them, waving to everyone I passed. 

I'd gone back and forth changing my mind about going to visit Ma at Shady Pines. It had been snowing ginormous fluffy flakes in the holler when I left and at first I thought I'd better hurry and get back home. But the weather in Big City, while colder than a witches tit was pretty clear.I decided I'd go spend a few minutes with Ma before getting groceries. I took the back roads through a residential neighborhood with huge houses and a park with a lake where all the high fallootin' folks exercise their designer pooches. As I passed the lake, the car in front of me stopped suddenly behind the turning vehicle in front of her. I eased on Jolene's brakes... I pumped the brakes.. I swerved onto the grass, between two trees and wooden posts lining the park to avoid the car in front of me and stood up on the brake pedal... straight for a tree. When I stopped I was alongside the turning car, even with the front of her little car. The Bitch looked at me, flipped me off and cussed me out, looking like a demon possessed valley girl.  


I sat there for a minute. My chest hurt. I couldn't breathe. I kept looking at the tree. I tried the brake pedal. It kinda went floppity flop. Floppity flop is not a good thing when it comes to brake pedals. I was barely out of the road, I was afraid to move my truck because I obviously had no brakes. I called 911. As I explained what had happened, I started bawling like a crazy person. The dispatcher seemed confused. Here's some crazy old woman WHO IS FINE yet bawling AND SHE DIDN'T EVEN HIT ANYTHING. She was able to find my location by my cellphone, because I was not being very helpful. She was extremely patient and kind with my breakdown. 

Yes, this is the tree. It was almost the last thing I saw. 

However, it was over a half hour before an officer decided to stop by.

Luckily, TA was killing time in Big City, waiting to go visit Boy Wonder when he got off work. I texted her then called her, still blubbering. She was there, from the other side of town before the popo ever showed up. 

She used her uber phone to find a wrecker, who was going to charge $150 to tow me back to Frog Pond Holler. The police eventually did show and she was like.. well.. you're okay, you're out of the road and you've got a wrecker on the way. You'll be fine. I was like.. yeah.. NOW I AM. 

I spent entirely too much time at the side of the highway in 26° weather, raccoon eyes and limping from wearing my old shoes because Yoda PEED in my fricken tenny shoes. 

I think I did some damn fine driving to keep from hitting a tree, a post or one mouthy little bitch while standing up on the brake pedal, trying to stop Jolene while flying towards a tree and having a nervous breakdown. All those years of watching the Dukes of Hazard paid off. 
When the rollback got there and pulled Jolene up on his truck, he got to looking and said, "Ya know, here's your problem. It's the brake line. It's busted. That part don't cost hardly nothing, how about I just take you over to "sounds like Sire Boned." "

After some advanced calculations, I decided that it would probably be more cost efficient to do that. I had no clue who was going to fix it when I got back to town anyway. 

So off we went to Sire Boned. 

And I'll have to finish later.. there's more to the story, but I need a shower and to color my hair. And I need a ride to Big City.

Ya'll hang in there. I'll have more soon. 

Later Taters!!!


tiff said...

You did some fine driving, and should be congratulated! So, congratulations! Here's hoping it's a quick and easy fix.

kenju said...

What Tiff said. Don't read my blog today because it won't lift your spirits any, except to know you are not alone.

Teeg said...

Glad you're okay. I'd probably have been bawling too. ((((hugs))))

Teressa Welch said...

Glad you didn't add "trees" to your somewhat healthy diet! And as for Miss Prissy Britches, her day will come, trust me. Hugs.

Significant Snail said...

So glad you are still with us and have an un-wrecked truck!

Celia said...

Thank God for the Dukes of Hazzard, glad you're in one piece.