Especially when you zap your inbox changing email providers, your gut packs it in due to stress, your kids go into lockdown mode, your from-hell oven gives the Thanksgiving turkey an afro, your home-business and sole source of income stalls due to a packaging snafu that leaves you covered in powdered dextrose, there’s no hot water in the kitchen, there’s no kitchen, your son’s room comes with an ensuite, the rest of you have to use the outhouse, which is just great for your gut-rot, the incumbent cat-lady’s fleas have mutated into Portugese jumping biting THINGS, the flight path has been diverted to directly over your house, and just to get the hell-ball rolling, the removalist is DRUNK and abusive and you have to pay him just to dump your stuff in the back yard and leave.

Then it rains.

Similar Posts

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *