At least . . .

I have been awake since 4am, worrying about crap I can't control. This is life with anxiety.

I'm now convinced that the repairs will be $2 and take 4 months to complete and I'll be so exhausted from the repairs taking so long that I'll have no energy to try and sell the trailer so 20 years later I'll still have my mobile home because I never sold it and I will end up with more and more cats because I'm depressed I never sold the trailer and there's no one to stop me from adding to the posse and eventually I'll become an episode of Animal Hoarders and when they interview me I'll be wearing a sweater made of cat hair and I'll repeat over and over "At least I have the trailer title! At least I have the trailer title! At least I have the trailer title!"