Dear Lord, Please give me a sign. or something or other

This morning on my way to work I saw a giant tennis ball in the back of some older gentleman's pickup truck. I'm not sure if you've ever had the experience of making your morning commute and noticing something strange. You have a moment of fuzzy comprehension because you aren't 100% lucid yet. You question the validity of the signals that your brain is receiving.

Well, I do that even when I'm totally awake. There are some days that I'm just a few bricks shy of a load if you catch my drift.

Getting back to the point, it was a giant tennis ball.

I mean really giant. It had to have a radius of at least 2.5 ft! It was huge! Humongous!

Consequently, where does a person purchase such a thing? Is there an outlet for over-sized sports equipment? Wait, who do I kid? He probably got it at the JR's. They have everything. Seriously, they do. I'm not kidding. Think of something that you have a hard time finding. Go ahead. I'll wait. Call JR's and I bet you a dollar they have it.

I'm off topic again. I told you I have these days. They sometimes include behavior that borders on dissociative identity disorder. Like having multiple voices within one conversation. Example behavior here: or actually just previous, before the colon. You understand.

As exciting as the tennis ball was I began to ponder the meaning of why I saw that tennis ball. I figure that the Lord sometimes shows me signs but I'm not exactly proficient at interpreting these signs. Or hell, even recognizing them. Call it signs from the Lord, intuition, instinct or whatever; I spend the majority of my life hurrying to get somewhere and don't really slow down to listen. Needless to say this normally results in my shoving my foot in my mouth or some other catastrophic happening of which I am forced to slow-down and deal with. I'm impatient as hell.

Now what sign a giant tennis ball would be is beside me but I do suppose it could have just been a giant tennis ball. Highly unlikely. Or well it could be likely. Seeing as how I did not put the giant tennis ball in my path I'm not sure of it's intentions. But if the Lord came to Moses as a burning bush surely tennis balls have to mean something in the overall scheme of things.

Here is a list of things that I have decided a giant tennis ball could mean:

1. Get your fat ass up and play some tennis. And drop that biscuit.
2. That I've been chosen to lead my people to the promise land. In which case, pack up ya'll, we're going to to Taco Bell and the ABC store.
3. God is pissed about Serena William's fashion line. (Seriously, that's some tacky shit. I would be pissed if I was God. I'm pissed and I'm not even a major deity.)
4. Fat people shouldn't ride in the beds of pickup trucks unless they're properly strapped down. I'm sure that wide sheets of flab can be construed as a sail or an air foil and cause liftoff. See Bernoulli's principle.

OOOOOOOOOOOOH! I KNOW! I KNOW!
5. My next husband will be a tennis pro.

Maybe I should take tennis lessons...

I have to go now.

Whatever it is that you think I'm doing I am most certainly not purchasing ace bandages for tennis elbow.