It all started out a semi normal day.

Wake up at the ass crack of dawn to get the kids up, one on the bus and the other ready to go to a doctor's appointment by 9:30. My husband is driving my car because it's a bit more reliable to do his job, and I'm usually at home. I'm to borrow my sister's car - if I can get his car (the evil car) to her house.

So, off we go into the wild blue yonder of the Atlanta bypass and beyond in my sister's car. Doctor's appointment goes well. Lunch afterward was wonderful. I return my sister's car and pick up the Evil Car.

Evil. Car. 

Evil Car is a beater 1991 Volvo. The seat is broken on one side so it actually faces more to the right side than the front. It can't be adjusted. The electrical system is jacked up, so the clock,r radio, the odometer, and most importantly... the gas gauge... don't... work...

As we drove out of the safety of my sister's neighborhood, the car started to sputter... Is it the engine or the gas? I didn't have time to get that answer in my head because not long after that, the stupid thing up and died on the side of a four lane.

My three year old and I take to the grassy side to walk to the nearest gas station, about a mile away.
Got a little ways down the street to a  red light and an ANGEL drove up and asked if we needed help.
"I"m not a murderer! do you need help!?"
"I'm not a scammer! I need gas!"

Thank various gods this woman had a carseat in her car and we toodle off to the gas station. I'm not really sure what I said because the only thing that was going through my mind at the time was OMGOMGOMGOMGTHIS IS NOT HAPPENING.

:: sigh ::

Nice lady returns me to my car in one piece and not in several, and the handy Marietta PoPo roll up to lend a helping hand as well.

We all said YAY when the car cranked up (and I was internally freaking because my stomach was now not happy I had Mexican food not an hour before.. eeeek.)

I say thanks a thousand times to the nice lady and drove away back to the gas station to get more gas. Turn it off. Get Gas. Crank it again.

It won't crank.

!(@*#(#*$&(*!@$!!!

Call my BFF and freak again. Randomly crank the car and miraculously, it starts again. OMG WAT?
CUSS the Evil Car all the way home..

Well the nice part of this story is that I belong to a local forum and posted a 'thank you to the lady who helped me' post...
Someone saw it, and is a friend of hers.

Now, if I can find her, I want to say THANK YOU in a non-freaked-out way.
She mentioned buying my book, amongst the inane babble and now I just want to thank her by giving her a copy. It's the very least I can do.


There really are nice people in the world.
Sometimes you just have to be in a ditch to find them.