House Shifts and Other Sucky Stuff

Sometimes I have the strongest feeling someone upstairs is laughing at me. They’re hanging about, devising crisis after crisis to throw at me, just for kicks. Then they watch me doing my headless chicken routine. Their latest idea: let’s make her shift house with only a week’s notice. What, she’s coping? Hmm. Let’s throw in a sick kid as well. And work that is critical and can’t be delegated or put off. Mwah-ah-ah. Cackle. Snort.

Thanks, cosmos. Thanks a blinkin’ lot.
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