Timing

 Let's say you had a plumbing issue. Not just a leaky faucet, but a bathroom drain that was clogged to the extent that the bathtub had filled with water and now it was beginning to back up some mystery solid waste in addition to the gallons of increasingly filthy liquid mixture. 

Call a plumber. They'll know what to do! It's their job!

Every so often, these moments call for patience since the plumber and/or their dispatch service cannot comprehend the scope of your emergency. "We'll send someone right over," you are reassured as the tub continues to rise and sludge begins to threaten spillover. 

Once that truck arrives in your driveway, you breathe a sigh of relief, certain that on that truck there is a capable professional trained in the ways of plumbing and carrying with him some tool or set of tools that will relieve the pending encroachment of the slime from who knows where. 

Taking a quick look at the situation, hands on hips, sticks his face down near what has become more raw sewage than anything resembling water. "That looks like a real problem."

Your heart soars because the guy with his hands on his hips is the same guy who helped you out last time. That time that he assured you that it would never happen again. And yet, here you are. With the guy who was supposed to fix it last time. 

And that's when he says, "Well, I'd love to help you out, but I'm going out of town on vacation right now."

At this point, a viscous fluid my father used to refer to as "yesterday's gardenias" begins to spill out onto the floor. With no signs of abating. Hope has vanished. The contents of god knows what sludge system is backing up into your house and the guy who should be fixing it has decided this would be a good moment to go off on vacation. 

This pretty much sums up my experience with Congress leaving Washington with the government closed. We're going to have to deal with "yesterday's gardenias" while they wander off to parts unknown. 

Thanks for nothing.