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Wordcount: 465
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On a Sunday
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As I sit here on a Sunday, I am looking around.
I see a house in deplorable condition. I see
close to trailer trash environment. I see leaks
where the water from our thunder storms gains
free access to the house and damages furniture.
I see clutter and dust. I see old pet hair
(since I don't have a dog...I have a sheep that
is regularly sheared in the middle of the night
by unseen faeries) that gathers into dust
elephants.
I have an incurable disease that stresses me from
time to time and there isn't anything I can do about it.
Then I read my email list. I see...well, to put
it bluntly....whiners who do nothing
but stir the pot and complain about things that
matter not one iota in life. I see stress
at every turn.
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