Saturday, November 15, 2003
I've spent the last few days in what can only be described as absolute hell. Fridays are not meant to be spent reining in four little terrors completely incapable of sitting still or shutting their mouths. Saturdays shouldn't be wasted away at Chevy dealerships pushing poor, helpless people into a circle of rabid car salesmen while the perfect day slips from your fingers. Had I been capable of saying no, I might have avoided the ten-hour workdays that tick away with the speed of drying paint, the suicidal thoughts, the homicidal rages, and the backaches that just wont quit. At the end of the day, after I dragged myself through the door and onto the couch, where I should have been all along, my mother presented me with the only thing in the world that could possibly have made the day better: a giant slab of Yoder's chocolate cake smothered with half an inch of their delicious chocolate icing. The only thing capable of saving me from my present hell was heaven itself. Thanks, Mom.
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