Well, I May Have the Holy Ghost, but I'm NOT PERFECT!

Yeah ... well ... just so y'all don't think I walk on water or anything... I thought I'd share.

But first, I must let EVERYONE know that all the teasing, moaning, and complaining about Lauren was all TONGUE IN CHEEK, people! I love her dearly, and I feel like I may have gone a wee bit too far... Sorry, Lauren! I really am. MWAH! (See? Maybe I do walk on water... NOT!)

So example number one: Private Road Rage. I'm certain we ALL know what I'm talking about. Oh, you can pretend you don't, but you.are.NOT.fooling.me. WHY is it you're not fooling me, because I'm doing a Beth Moore Bible Study, and the SPIRIT IS TALKING TO ME RIGHT NOW ... telling me that I'm not the only one with Private Road Rage. Here's what happened. I'm driving along, minding my own business, and OH! I stop at a red light. I know, I know... you're all wondering, "well, that's not so strange... most people stop at red lights." Well, you're wrong. People over the age of 100 DO NOT stop at red lights, and feel that you shouldn't either, because I guess you're holding them up, so they honk, honk, honk, and HONK their horn at you until the light turns green. So, you inch up into the intersection (making a left turn, people), wait for the on-coming traffic to come on, and the 100 year old man starts laying on his horn like there is no tomorrow, and FRANKLY... if he doesn't SHUT IT, there MAY.NOT.BE.A.TOMORROW in his very near future. So, being the Godly Christian woman I am, and seeing that I am filled up and down with the Holy Ghost, I practice SELF CONTROL. Remember how to do that in sign language... okay... do it real quick as a reminder. So, with the infinite self control that I now posses, I slllooooooowwwwllllly (very slowly) creep through the intersection. Not because I HAVE to, but, well ... because he has TICKED ME OFF and I WANT TO, OKAY? Yeah, well, my zippy 100 year old driver tears off around me like a bat out of.... sorry. Self control. Self control. Then, as I'm turning right into the shopping mall that has a drive-thru Starbucks (my next stop), a car from on-coming traffic feels like it wants to come-on and tried to cut me off with a left turn ... into MY turn and then when he couldn't, stopped in the middle of the intersection as close as he could (yeah, a HE) and tried to pressure me to hurry up. Uh, I don't think so! Rome wasn't created in a day, so you'll have to wait your turn, buddy! This Godly woman's got the right of way, and if you think my left hand turn to get here was painfully slow... WATCH THIS.

Now see? That's PRIVATE ROAD RAGE. I am displaying a Godly face and a serene smile as the 100 year old driver rips past me, and I'm nodding kindly with a smile on my face to the person trying to cut me off, but inside... I'm privately raging and displaying it with MANNERS, people. They don't need to know that I'm purposely driving extra-snail-paced-slow on purpose to annoy them!

Next - we have a luncheon today for a man that has been with this company for 30 years. I don't know this man from Adam, but free food? Sure. I'm there. And it was good, too... but what is it with people? I mean... you see a bowl for the potato salad, and you see a bowl for the ice. Now, WHAT WOULD POSSES YOU to place the potato salad SPOON in the ice bowl? Did you think we needed an extra helping of onions with our ice and soda? Did you? It was most likely a man. See? I think evil thoughts. Yeah, well, God forgive me anyhow, because I know that any man reading this, which would mean you have to DELURK, would agree with the stereotype that men don't care what stuff tastes like individually because it's all going down to the same place anyhow. So, whoever it was... thanks for ruining my SO-DA.

And, speaking of lunch at work ... you know what? I just don't care HOW bloated you're feeling... there really is NO PLACE in the work force to be sharing GAS with your co-workers. Especially if you're over 40. Shame on you. You should know better. And saying "excuse me" after each and every stinking time is not gonna cut it. So -- STOP IT! NOW!

And finally, as one last example that God isn't finished with me yet ... just in case there was any doubt about that ... When I went out to get into my car this afternoon so I could get my Cafe Mocha at Starbucks, I got out into the parking lot and couldn't find my car. Now, I know I was very late to work today, because they had an entire street blocked off for a bad accident, so I didn't park where I usually park, but how could my car just disappear? So, I started to walk the parking lot... and let me just say... I don't drive a cute little bug like you'd find over at Queen Beth's House... No. I drive a big ol' honking (and if I could remember the word I learned at Jeana's I'd use it now) Expedition... White. Not easy to miss. So, I finally got to the back few rows of our parking lot, and low and behold... there it is. Right behind that Humvee-3. So apparently, they pay SOMEONE that doesn't have a reserved parking spot enough money to get one of those "look at me" cars. And... it's taller than mine. Who would have thought? Aaaaand ... just so you know... they come equipped with BARCODED vehicle identification numbers. Now, that's just too scary and BIG-GOVERNMENT-like (look at me ... pretending to look like I know what that means!) Well ... I guess your money has to go towards SOMETHING new and different and unique, doesn't it?

So see? [OH MAN! That's just gross... I just sipped up a piece of onion in my soda. Apparently, using the ice scoop doesn't guarantee you won't get pieces of onion in your ice. That's just nasty!]

Anyway -- so see? God's FAR from finished with me yet!