Some days are just like that. The angel wings fall off, get knocked off, pushed into a corner, blown away in a storm and there you go the only way to get around is on a broomstick.
Unfortunately broomstick days can happen to the best of us.
The worst kind for me is when the monkeys come along for the ride.
There’s Judge and Jury, the monkey that judges everything and everyone around them. I think he is the worst. Jumping onto every bandwagon that’s going. I really hate him. I try not to have an opinion, not to be harsh or critical but that monkey is always there goading me on. Who am I to judge? What have I done special that makes me any different but there I go again. I have to be constantly vigilant that this little guy doesn’t get in there and pester away at me.
The judge’s best friend often comes with him ... that would be Outrageous Indignation. He gets in my ear ... why should you have to be treated like that, you shouldn’t have to put up with this, you could do better, who are they to make judgement on you? On and on and on....
Hanging onto the end of the broom calling don’t forget me is It’s all about Me. What a balancing act, competing for attention. When they are all in fine form the broomstick is at full speed and I am the witch queen from hell. I dread their company.
There’s only so many times though, a woman can be pushed around before the wings get crushed and the broomstick comes out.
Ask the rental car man.