The Layers of Hell

All new layers of hell–at every turn.

First my wife was supposed to finish something up and meet me in front of a building in NYC later.  30 minutes later–I went to go find her, and guess what? I got back to my care (illegally parked I admit) to a $250 parking ticket.

Then when we got home, I walked into a whole new mess, only to be topped off by the indignity of waiting 20 minutes on a Monday night at Applebees (the 8th level of hell I am pretty sure).

So yeah, shit happens.

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