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My life, and the lives of those around me, have careened into a circus tent.  Due to some circumstances being utterly, unquestionably, and decidedly not anyone's fault, but also due to some which are glaringly, obviously, and so clearly the fault(s) of one or more of us, it has fallen to me to pull all this back together.  Except I'm not the Ringmaster.  No; too easy.

I need glue and spit and phone lines and Kleenex and duct tape and ear plugs and syringes and megaphones and prayers and steadiness and string and a level head and Scotch tape and the ability to mind-read to start to put all this crap back into some kind of order.  I'm the one who makes sure everyone has on their water wingies, when I can't even swim.

I'm the Magic Act.  There are half a dozen or more items up in the air right now (including a couple of chainsaws, and some things aflame), things will be ugly and every bit of any blame will be laid swiftly and heavily upon me if the act doesn't go well, and



  1. Good grief, woman! Have a glass of wine and a lie-down, quick! I hope it all settles quietly into place with minimal blood loss or amputations necessary.

  2. Oh Twinster--I feel your pain.

    Remember that you are all grown ups and maybe some people should act as such?

  3. It's all too much for one person.......


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