This is not an episode of Scooby-Doo. There is no need to have a huge montage of me running up and down a hall, in and out of random doors, while random crap* jumps out to scare me and then retreats behind a slammy door.
And you just know those bitches are going to pop out of another door you don’t expect, any fucking second.
I am not saying that you have to line all these issues up so I can address them** orderly fashion. But, at least some sort of sense to them would be nice.
I have made every attempt to deal with this in a sane fashion. You, however, are leaving me no choice.
From now on, I am just going to prioritize according to how I see fit. And if you don’t like it, I will just turn the damn montage music up louder. See if you can be heard above the Casio, you puling crack-ho.
Love you. Mean it.
~The Mgmt
* – Dad’s illness, exams, sudden periods on road trips, people leaving on a jet plane, stupid fights with our Beloved, etc. etc. etc.
** – Yes. Yes, I am.
The Process 
Step away from your troubles for a few minutes. Take a breath. Everything’s going to be ok. And if not, there’s always cooking some comfort food, and telling the world to go to hell.
I hear hugs from one’s kids help fix stuff too.
Or perhaps a glass of wine/beer/etc…
Suffice it to say, here are some happy vibes. Enjoy them, and enjoy the rest of your day.
Hell, I know that.
I am doing it. I am allowed to bitch about the randomness, however. That’s part of MY therapy.
And thankees for the happy vibes. đŸ™‚
Here’s sending you some extra batteries for the Casio.
Best of luck.