For The Love of Richard Simmons, Just Tell Me Already

For the past few weeks I have been in a pretty mediocre vibe, knowing that I really need to make some changes in my life but not quite sure where or when to start this transformation.  Typically during times like these I will just ask the man upstairs, Richard Simmons my pseudo life coach or any angel hanging around bored stiff to please send me a sign, just a little nudge in the right direction or something to show me things are going to be alrighty.   Usually my plead for assistance calms me and a few instances here and there settles my nerves and is helpful, but alas this time not so much. 

Why isn't there a handbook on what are "true signs" anyway?  What determines if something is a sign, coincidence, voodoo curse or just a normal occurrence that would have happened regardless?  I am nutso already so my recent vague happenings just make me even more bonkers than before I asked for help in the first place.  I know God's schedule is mad busy but can he not just do a chick a favor and stop by the hizzy?  fast fast - short and sweet.  Pop by all casual in his Jesus sandals and robe, give it to me straight and then move along to the next kooky broad. 

Here are some examples: 

• Went to the beach and it was covered with black Jingle Shells, Lady Slippers and unbroken Angel Wings.  This never happens.
• Accidentally Goodwilled my comfortable (fatty-boom-ba-laddy) pants and stuck myself the with the 2 sizes too small version that I was forced to wear (hideous) for my lunch date with my mother and sister back home and I didn't see anyone I knew.  Unheard of luck.
• A childhood friend I had no contact with in over a decade found me through fb a week after my mother and I were reminiscing about her family as we drove down our old street.  ESP awesomeness
• Worried that the kid's games will take place at the same time this weekend on opposite sides of town while my husband works and I'm alone until the long awaited schedule shows they are 7 hours apart.  Whew.
• Started the week with a drawer full of clean panties and my son replaced the toilet paper and didn't leave me stranded.  Magic.
• Parents bought a slew of smoke alarms for our 500 sq. ft. birdhouse to add to the 4 we already have installed.  Should we be practicing stop, drop and roll?  Just tell me!
• Had a 3 day stomach virus so I was amazingly able to button the only clean work slacks that I own.  Straight up Voodoo Luck.
• On this mornings drive I got behind a VW Golf, my first car who's wheel fell off in front of the entire town and a school bus with the same number of the one I crashed into at the end of my street during high school.  What are the odds?

Some other scary fantastic "signs" have been going on, like not having to go to the ladies room on my 2 hour drive back home through Never-Never-Farmland Extravaganza where it never fails that somebody (me) has to stop 1,000 times on Deliverance dirt roads.  An uninterrupted drive home with all of my favorite old school tunes on a super crap day, a peppering of happy morning kids,  finding a can of .59 cents Coke that was not circa 1942, finally saw a donkey in a field of cows that I had been trying to locate for over a month, Annie decided she doesn't want to be a Go-Go Dancer and my husband washed the dishes without me having to cry about it.

There isn't enough margarita mix available for me to try and decipher all these going-ons.  For goodness sakes Richard Simmons!  Are things on the upswing or are you buttering me up for a colossal heaping of whoop-ass life lessons?  Send me a fifth of Kettle One and let's talk about it.

Would I lie to you?