I need a karma infusion

OK, so now I’m laughing. A maniacal, verging on “commit me” laugh. Just as I was putting dinner on the table for the kids, I got a phone call from a former neighbor asking if I knew that there was a car wrapped around the tree in the front lawn of our old house. Uh, no. No, I didn’t. And really, I didn’t want to know. A car. Abandoned. On the property of a house we are trying to sell. Several shrubs. Toast. Several paver stones. Scattered around the lawn. Several tire gouges. Imbedded in the lawn and stone drive. No, I didn’t need to know any of that.

Several hours later, I am in the possession of a case number that will grant me access to a police report that may or may not be ready by next Tuesday. Once we have the police report, we can pursue an insurance claim, assuming that the owner of said car had insurance. Until then, I wish the real estate agent luck in trying to convince people to buy the house. Would YOU buy a house that is a car magnet? Yeah. I didn’t think so.

I don’t know what else to say. I really don’t. So I think I am just going to keep laughing that maniacal laugh until someone commits me. Because really, I’m starting to think that a little pharmaceutical intervention might be in order.

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