This poem was written by Makara’s husband this morning. My name is Patrick and while I’m nowhere near as talented as my wife, I do on occasion enjoy creating my own versions of art. She asked me to do this in part because she thought it was funny, but mostly so that I would finally shut up (this is her ninja way of accomplishing this without making me feel bad). Oh the married life. How I love thee <3 :)
Why did you choose today, of all the 365 available, to decide to replace our refrigerator and stove unit? Today, which I had declared was the worst day possible, until the realization struck that this replacement mission has taken over 4-6 hours. Therefore, it is the second worst day possible since the worst day would have been on Thanksgiving day itself! How are families expected to create a dinner to feed the masses, also know as family and friends, when their hard earned rations are laying on the floor in plastic bags melting and molding while they wait for their new home. How are we to cook! When our stoves are left disconnected in the kitchen awaiting shipment to destination unknown and their replacements are no where to be found. HOW I ASK! But more importantly, WHY! Luckily for us, we are doing our feast with friends on Saturday, but if it was any other year, we would be quite annoyed and angry. This is coming from a resident who is not suffering but can understand the anguish that it is causing my fellow tenants. So allow me to finish this with one final phrase, Epic Fail.