What's the big deal about Young Living

You Know It’s a Bad Day When…

You know those times when you think, “This day absolutely CANNOT get any worse” because you just voted for someone that you suspect might take our country to heck in a handbasket, but if You Know Who wins, you are fairly certain the country will go there in a rocket?

And then while you’re reviewing your vote your daughter texts you from basketball practice that she is having the same severe allergic reaction that put her in the ER last week and then she sends you a pic of her face that looks exactly like the one of Will Smith in the movie “Hitch” so you tell the voter volunteer and she asks if you want to ditch the voting booth and you say, “NO! I need to get this vote to count!” So you press enter quickly and pray that you voted for the right one and literally RUN out of the polling place and jump in the van, and it’s not until you’re halfway down the block that you realize you’ve been hearing a menacing SCRRRRRRRRRAPING sound, so you pull over and get out to quickly walk to the back and see a couple of volunteers (including an elder from church) chasing your vehicle because you have run over a barricade and have been dragging it down the street. The elder asks if there is a problem, and you say, “I HAVE A LOT OF PROBLEMS!” as you run back to the van apologizing.

Then on your way to get the girl to the ER you call a friend to pick up the other teen from babysitting and she tells you your security gate is stuck in the closed position and she can see that the new neighbor who bought some property from the widow and was recently arrested for possession of meth (I can’t make this stuff up) is having a fight with his girlfriend in the middle of the road. So she climbs over the gate (sorry, Cintheya!) to make sure your kids at home are okay and you send up a silent prayer that all meth addicts stay clear of your home.

And when you get to the ER the doctor that is assigned to you has only one arm, and I’m not saying anything about doctors with only one arm except that it seems like it would make some procedures pretty difficult, so you find yourself (once again) praying that there will be no need for CPR this day and then you spend the better part of the next hour imagining what it would take for a one armed doctor to do CPR.

The good news is we are home now, the gate opened, and all is well.

And I can just pay that traffic ticket tomorrow…

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