Look at me. I'm done for. And you know why?
Well, this is what started it.
This behemoth truck. It showed up yesterday morning before I'd even finished my breakfast. And as soon as it appeared---COMPLETE TURMOIL! I retreated to the closet and sulked waited patiently for hours and hours while feet tramped back and forth, voices shouted, things banged and bumped and thudded. Finally---quiet at last. Time for a nice sunbath to soothe my jangled nerves. But when I opened the closet door, my couch had disappeared. Instead...everywhere I looked...
...boxes...
...hour after hour...boxes...
...all night long...
...boxes...
...boxes...
...boxes...
Now it's forty-eight hours later, and I still haven't found my couch. I haven't slept a wink since that truck arrived, I still haven't had a sunbath, and my poor nerves are still completely frazzled. This has all been too much for me. Much too much. Maybe I'll give up on the couch. For now, at least. Go to bed instead.
If I can find the bedroom, that is....
How did Miss Creative manage to PACK all those boxes? And how will she unpack them? You'd better develop a stronger patience, Bessie...
ReplyDeleteHang in there, Bessie! This too will pass. I know it's hard to believe but it won't be like this forever!
ReplyDelete