When The Sh*t Hits The Fan

...it flies EVERYWHERE

…it flies EVERYWHERE


Ever have one of those times where you’re bumping along, things are going great, tra la la la la, you’re Snow White romping with all the woodland creatures, singing away while they’re doing all your boring housework, fiddle dee dee…

And then life drops a bomb on you.

When I’m talking bomb, I’m talking, the foulest contents of the foulest diaper that ever was.

A shit bomb.

That hits the proverbial fan, in a ‘shit hits the fan’ moment that leaves you standing there, completely stunned, excrement dripping from every possible surface, including your forehead?

Yeah, that’s been what’s been going on here lately.

(Sorry for any stomach churning, folks, but it’s really the only way I could think of to describe current events)

Yeah. So.

The shortest synopsis is in the GoFundMe link at the bottom at the bottom of the post. That there’s a link there at all, should give you an idea of how much poop has flown.

Towers of it. Mountains.

And I’m scared.

Knowing that someone who’s…unstable…has a rage on for me, for my husband?

Not the things dreams are made of, let me tell you. At least, not GOOD dreams.

I mentioned before that we were thinking of a cross-country move. I’d already started budgeting for it. I figured, by next spring/summer, we’d be good to go.

Now, I don’t feel like we have luxury of time. We need to go, and go NOW.

When my gut does the rumba, I listen. I’ve learned *that* lesson the hard way. Repeatedly.

So, if you’re willing, I’d ask folks to share the link. Tweet, Facebook, whatever. If you can look at it as a ‘tip jar’, and think I’ve been remotely amusing, thought-provoking, or enjoyed the blog at any time, and can drop a dollar or two in, that would be fantastically amazing.

In the meantime, we’re scrambling, trying everything we can to scrape up enough money to get us out of here.

Wish us luck, ok? Prayers, good thoughts, naked hula dancing, whatever it is you do when wishing someone well, I would be very grateful.

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When The Sh*t Hits The Fan — 6 Comments

    • Thanks, Liza.

      We were already planning a move…for *next* year. This has us panicking to do it much sooner than we planned, and trying to find any means we can.

      Frankly, it sucks.

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