HUMOR

Craigslist Ad — Would You Like Some Stress? I Have Extra

For Sale → Free Stuff

I remember when Craigslist wasn’t a sewer. (Author photo)

FREE TO ANY HOME NO REHOMING FEE

Stress Giveaway

I have surplus stress, and I am giving away the extra.

Stress available in individual or multiple lots of: oodles, craptons, bunches, armloads, and mountains. All free to a good home. Or a bad home. I don’t ask questions.

Lot 1: The stress of realizing your phone is at two percent battery and your charger is somewhere. By the time you find it, it’s at one percent and beeping. Also in this lot is the panic you feel thinking you will miss a call in the sixty seconds it takes the phone to power back up.

Lot 2: Ordering an online package only to have it transferred to the post office for delivery, necessitating a walk all the way to the mailbox. Spending five minutes to find your left shoe so you can walk out there ball of stress included.

Lot 3: Randy said that Margo wants to know if Anna actually said to Rick, who then told Mary to tell Randy to tell Margo to tell Anna that I was going to flirt with her husband. As if. He wears a hairpiece and smells like a taxidermy failure.

Lot 4: If you were driving down the road late at night in blinding rain and hit something. It’s late, it’s wet, slippery, and muddy, so you have to put the object in your backseat for the night.

The next morning, you find out he isn’t dead yet, so you’re forced to smother him. For his own good, of course. He was really messed up. Poor bastard. He should have been driving, not hiking in the rain with his thumb sticking out, like some weird bipedal freak. I mean that’s what cars are for. It’s definitely not your fault.

It takes a day to find a good disposal spot, and by then there’s like fluids of death leaking on your backseat so you have to find a ravine and push the car over the edge. It does not explode like in the movies, which is disappointing. However, the corpse remains inside the car — as far as you can tell. Nobody will ever find him.

It’s really stressful and you still stress over it — you’re not a monster. You had five payments left on the car.

Lot 5: Pimple patches that are only available on two-day delivery. By then my zit will be huge and I feel close to calling a lawyer or the ACLU, they can’t figure out that they need to be rushed? Come on. It’s a skincare/Amazon/facial rights conspiracy.

Lot 6: Potpourri lot. Full list available for serious inquiries. Available pick and mix include: You waved back at someone who wasn’t waving at you and they saw. You’re only fairly sure you turned off the oven. A missed call from your doctor’s office with no voicemail. A text from three days ago that says, “Hey, sorry, it’s been a minute but I miss you.” You have no idea who it’s from. You think you have a booger and you’re presenting in a meeting.

Also not listed: stresses for the “discerning” stresser. Inquiries via email only, no tire kickers. Or cops.

That stresses me out.

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