While I was away on my staycation, Carolyn left me the following message:
Hi Katy, this is Carolyn (my eyes rolling until they ached). It's time to trim your Sasquatch tree (like she's my mom or something). If you need help seeing how it should be trimmed, my neighbor has done a really good job maintaining her tree, so you might want to take a look, get a few pointers. Just get that tree trimmed as soon a possible. K? Bye.
I was fuming, and I felt like lobbing rocks and weeds into her pool. I wanted to hang a sign over her fence, saying: SIT ON IT, CAROLYN! Instead I exhibited self control and called mi Amor. Being the good Christian man that he is, he called a professional tree trimmer. Since we don't have a chainsaw or a ladder high enough to do the job ourselves, we'll be shoveling out one hundred and fifty dollars (that we don't have) to trim the tree 3 centimeters back from the fence line.
Are you happy now, Carolyn? Taking money from the poor like that?
Tonight I'm praying that I'll get over this situation. After all, tomorrow is the Sabbath. I'm going to sing extra loud during the sacrament hymn in hopes for extra forgiveness. I need it in a bad way.
P.S. Maybe Carolyn should worry less about my tree and more about her grapevines.