I just traded my neighbour a jar of raw honey for his parakeet’s corpse.

It is also worth noting that the only reason I have so much raw honey is because I made a dress for a beekeeper’s daughter.

And that I need the parakeet bones to make a necklace for the woman who fixed my antique cello.

And that I got the cello as payment for juggling at a child’s birthday party.

When did my life get this weird?