Doomtown

My body is a hot mess, and I’m not just being Southern and overly humble about my looks. I am falling apart faster than a creationist’s argument , make no mistake. And for those of you who advocate creationism, please be aware that I’m in pain. I make no apologies when I’m in pain. I probably wouldn’t apologize even if I were feeling well enough to walk without limping or cursing, but the last thing I need right now is to be attacked by an angry mob of Ben Steins. I don’t care how good he was in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off . His stoic refusal of established scientific fact is rather irritating. This picture explains so much. It started out a beautiful sunny Friday. I didn’t have to be at work until 3 P.M and I was slowly, yet surely catching up to my NaNoWriMo word count. All was right with the world. My husband, our friend James , and I decided we were going to eat lunch at Messina ’s at the Terminal before I left for work. That’s when my day went to complete and utter hell...