It's not like I plan to have temper tantrums, they just happen. And it's not like I try to have impulsive thoughts of murder, violence, and blowing things up, but hey, like you've never been there? Perhaps my anger at this house (and my husband this week) has gotten a little out of hand, but (like there's really a justification for throwing things and screaming that you'd rather die than hear a train again) seriously, I've been teetering at that breaking point for 6 weeks and I think I finally tottered on over the edge this morning.
Thankfully, God saw fit to send me an angel in the form of Ace, the lovely man that works at our local Busy Beaver. He was the correct amount of helpful, encouraging, and lighthearted that I needed in my time of insanity.... that and the large amounts of chocolate I shoveled into my blood stream upon leaving the store. Ace gave me helpful hints about bugs, gardening, home improvement, paint colors, and the relationships. He has become my Dear Abby.... "Dear Ace, Today I tried to throw myself off the second story of our farmhouse and onto a strategically placed pair of hedge trimmers. What do I do to succeed next time? Signed, Tired of the Train"
"Dear Tired of the Train, just remember that if you die in the yard, the spiders will carry your body off and eat your remains. Do you really want to let that happen? Of course not. Next time, just eat more chocolate, change the paint color, and remember my soothing voice as the train screams in your ear at night."
Thank you, Ace. Thank you.
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