RIP My Oven

Fuck. Just fuck.

I’ve known since before I moved here that the stove wasn’t going to last forever. Hell, I knew it wasn’t going to last long. It’s officially over. The oven is done. The range top is still pathetically limping along, but the oven is done. I have to replace the whole thing.

I’m trying not to cry. I’m trying not to get down. I’m trying to be grateful that I still have stove access until I can get this replaced. I’m trying not to scream, “Why me?” at the top of my fucking lungs.

It’s all going to be okay. I’ll make it okay somehow. For now, I feel like wallowing in a bit of “This fucking sucks!” I’ll adjust my attitude tomorrow.


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