Remember the dumpster? With the broken garbage furniture, and the yelling?
She had a neighbor fish all that back out.
And then she ordered ANOTHER dumpster.
And then she turned down paid assistance to get the rest of the moving done.
Despite the fact that perhaps said neighbor might spend his time better helping pack.
Despite the fact that to her, NOTHING is garbage and she wants to keep everything with her.
Despite the fact that an entire team of professional movers claimed they would take seven days, and how exactly is she planning to get this done with "volunteer" help, when she's been turning down volunteers, yelling at them, and just generally not letting them do anything.
And then, on top of all this crazy, my own grandpa is not doing well. Really not doing well. The variety of not doing well that says things like "Guess I won't be swimming anymore" and "I don't think I'm going to last until the end of the month". And this grandpa is the SANE one, the one who is possibly the most beloved human being I've ever met, and the one who is NOT prone to drama, exaggeration, or fishing for attention. (So I guess I didn't get all that from him...)
And then I looked at a calendar and realized that all this could not be happening on a better week. You know, the week before Aunt Flo visits. Of course.
This, my friends, is what they call "the perfect storm".