I keep thinking in my anger/rage right now about the people who are on the other end of the phone/office who don't care about Wash as a person, or helping do anything to keep him alive.
I'm getting so pissed I feel like making some Eugene Mirman esque wishes.
No, I do not wish cancer or ill health for these people.
Frankly, that's just too easy and kind.
No, the people right now denying insurance to my terminal husband? The ones trying to do anything they can, legal or not to kick him off his insurance? Here is my wish.
First, I wish for them to always be cut in line. Every time they get in a queue, try to join the Drive-Through lane, wait for movie tickets, place a bid online... For the rest of their lives they will always be cut. Someone will ALWAYS barge in, take the last spot, make them late for the show, take the first cab....
Second, I wish for their own personal body odor to change to the scent of cooked bacon. To some, it might seem delicious - at first. Slowly, the constant scent of cooked bacon will drive them insane. Either to eat more bacon, or never enjoy it again. I will leave to your imagination what will happen over the summers or when they want to go jogging... or if they have dogs at home.
That's my wish.
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