rollin' in the deep

Is there ever a better time for your whole world to come crashing around you than three days before a move to a new life?  Nope.  The universe knows this and plans accordingly, I'm pretty sure.

In recent events, we have the following:
a) rotting sewage pipes and the stank from hell rising from the depths of our kitchen foundation for three months and the current stank-free-but-Frankensteinian state of my unusable kitchen,
b) coworker fiascos and consequences of arrogance in abundance,
c) three days left to pack a three-bdrm apt. to travel 1009 miles,
d) credit card fraud,
d) officially failed performance of Remicade and inability to make a treatment adjustment until after the move,
e) exponentially increased anxiety over the grad school decision and heavy sadness surrounding leaving Boss Man,
d) and a loved one's confession of narcotics addiction at t minus three days to departure.

Really?  Srsly?

The Crohn's is having a field day with this.  Nightly attacks, almost constant nausea, diet of primarily saltines, not much sleeping to speak of.

Almost on the beach... almost on the beach... almost on the beach...