According to Forrest Gump's mamma 'Life is like a box of chocolates'.
Well my life certainly includes chocolate, in varying amounts depending on my stress levels.
But my life isn't like a box of chocolates, it's like a sodding great rucksack that some muppet forgot to zip up.
Coping ok with L&M's PTSD and depression, ok let's chuck in a bipolar diagnoses for your daughter.
Coping ok moneywise, ok we'll give you a pay cut and change the L&M's duties to make him unhappy.
Settled nicely in your house, ok, let's make you move as you will no longer afford the mortgage with all the changes at work.
All I can do it hitch up my shoulders a bit higher to take the extra weight in the rucksack, and remember the words of my friend Joy. Chin up and tits out!
My DD1 had one of her dogs put to sleep in June he had heart failure. Christmas Eve she had her other dog put to sleep, she had a tumour. ...
So many comments, so I'm not alone thinking they are mad to live like this. This is the wife who throws herself on the floor and screams...
I've written a post about where the money goes, so here's one about where the incoming money comes from. CHS is still working an...