Not TOO ironic that I wrote about comfort being ... well, overrated. 

Monday evening, my comfort level was dramatically adjusted, even if just temporarily.  It was a beautiful sunny evening, and of course, the top was down on my dear Mustang as I made my pizza deliveries.  About 7:30, I drove up a dirt and gravel road to a home I hadn't been to since fall.  I got out of the car and started up his walk, when I heard my car rolling.  Sure enough, the break decided not to hold.  It was moving very slowly, so I figured I could catch it.  Got there, opened the door, and got one foot in the door.  The next thing I knew, I fell backwards, the car flipped me over and dragged me about 35 ft until it stopped, apparently because I provided enough resistence.  After screaming the whole time, finally the man ran out and asked what he wanted me to do.  As he opened the door, though, my foot came free and I was loosed. 

I was inches from the front tire, and though I have a "road rash" that might make me the envy of every biker,  there were no permanent adjustments.  I am just not made of putty!  But with the assistance of some lovely narcotics, I was able to finish my final final and paper. 

I am off till at least Saturday, but have begun, in earnest, to look for something else for the summer.  This is just one of the serious adjustments our family is undergoing at this time.  I'm sure, in good time, I will write about the other stuff, too ...

Thank you to those of you who kindly prayed for me.  It was deeply appreciated. 

~ B