Dealin’ with the Big Guy

On Monday, I was in the depths of dispair. Oh, woe is me, woe is Aubrey, woe woe woe.

Woe.

On Tuesday, I was in the height of happiness. Oh gleeful am I, glee glee glee.

Glee.

Today, I’m even happier. No, didn’t win the lottery but did dodge a $25k immediate necessity, got myself a fabulous renter for my home (so didn’t have to sell it after all, nor move back to Atlanta!), FOUND my camera through my Magnum PI investigative prowess, and am getting ready to hit my first professional sporting event in the great state of California in a LUXURY SUITE, no less. (That means free beer! And munchies! And beer! And ogling at hot Bball players! OGLE!)

While one near and dear attributes my aforementioned dispair to mere over-reacting, I disagree entirely. YOU TRY coming up with TWENTY FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS in the next three weeks. YOU TRY coming to terms with the fact that nobody will ever see just how cute you looked at your Christmas party because irresponsible you left your camera in a limo. YOU TRY dealing with that, some other crap I won’t bore you with (read: personal, so none of your damn business), the "holiday season" (fa la la) and a bit o’ plain ol’ PMS and YOU SEE if you didn’t have a near breakdown.

Then again, wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Just glad it worked out, and yes, will be keeping my promise to God and heading straight to church on Sunday. You make a deal with the Big Guy, you keep it.

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