The morning sun, usually a welcome sight, cast harsh shadows on the woman standing on my porch, her face a mask of indignation. Mrs. Gable, Grandma’s “entitled neighbor,” as she so lovingly referred to her, was a force of nature, and not a particularly pleasant one.
“How long am I supposed to wait for my share of the will?!” she demanded, her voice a grating rasp that could curdle milk. “My grandkids are coming over, and I want them to take their part of the inheritance before they leave!”
I blinked, trying to process the sheer audacity of her statement. “Mrs. Gable,” I said, my voice calm despite the rising tide of annoyance, “Grandma’s will… it doesn’t mention you.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed into slits. “Nonsense! We were like family! She wouldn’t leave me out.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but everything in the house now belongs to me.”
I offered a small concession. “I’ve packed some boxes for donation. You’re welcome to look through them, see if there’s anything you want.”
“Donation boxes?!” she shrieked. “Your grandma was like family to us! We had to be mentioned in the will. Give it to me! I have to see for myself.”
“I can’t do that,” I said, my patience wearing thin. “The will is a legal document.”
She planted her feet, a stubborn look on her face. “Then I’m not leaving. I’ll just stand here until you give me what’s mine.” She proceeded to stand directly in front of my porch, peering into my windows and muttering under her breath.
I sighed. This was getting ridiculous. I needed to give this woman a reality check, a gentle but firm reminder that she wasn’t entitled to anything.
I went inside, grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper, and returned to the porch. Mrs. Gable watched me, her eyes filled with suspicion.
“What’s that?” she asked, her voice laced with distrust.
“I’m writing you a bill,” I said, my voice deliberately casual.
“A bill? For what?”
“For services rendered,” I said, scribbling on the paper. “Let’s see… ‘Consultation regarding inheritance, one hour… $100.'”
Mrs. Gable’s face turned a shade of purple I didn’t think possible. “Are you serious?!”
“Perfectly,” I said, adding another line. “‘Unauthorized surveillance of private property, one hour… $50.'”
“That’s outrageous!” she sputtered.
“And,” I continued, adding a final line, “‘Emotional distress caused by unwarranted demands, one hour… $150.'” I handed her the paper. “That’ll be $300, Mrs. Gable.”
She snatched the paper from my hand, her eyes scanning the ludicrous list. “You can’t do this!”
“Actually, I can,” I said, a smile playing on my lips. “And if you don’t pay, I’ll have to add late fees.”
She crumpled the paper in her fist, her face a mask of fury. “You’re just like your grandma!” she hissed. “Entitled and selfish!”
“Perhaps,” I said, “but I’m also practical. And I value my peace of mind.”
She glared at me for a moment, then turned and stomped off the porch, muttering about lawyers and lawsuits. I watched her go, a sense of satisfaction washing over me.
Later that day, as I sorted through Grandma’s belongings, I found a small, velvet-lined box tucked away in a drawer. Inside was a handwritten note, addressed to me.
“My dearest grandchild,” it read, “I know Mrs. Gable can be… persistent. Remember, you owe no one anything. Your happiness is your own. And sometimes, a little bit of absurdity is the best way to deal with entitlement.”
I smiled, a warm feeling spreading through my chest. Grandma had known exactly what to do. And she had left me the perfect tool to handle it. I had learned a valuable lesson that day: sometimes, the best way to deal with entitled people is to meet their absurdity with your own. And a little bit of humor never hurts.
Howie Mandel reveals he’s ‘incredibly medicated,’ admits mental health struggles are ‘absolute hell’
renowned for saying “don’t touch me” a lot.When Howie Mandel gave Reba McEntire a firm hug on The Voice stage in September 2023, it stunned everyone.
The comedian caved in to his excitement and was unable to resist the country music star’s allure because he suffers from a crippling phobia of germs.
Mandel appears upbeat and joyful when he is in the spotlight, but when he is not, he discloses that he is a “scared” guy who would rather live “in the fetal position.”
Furthermore, he just made a startling admission that disclosed how he controls the OCD that drives him to “absolute hell.”To find out more, continue reading!
Many people’s inner germaphobe was let loose by the horror of the global epidemic, making them more aware of the risks of contamination.
While many people’s fear of germs passed after a few years, for others it remains crippling and never goes away.
“It is impossible for me to live a day in my life without thinking that we might not survive,” says Howie Mandel, a man who has experienced extreme anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) since he was a little child. The 68-year-old TV personality says the pandemic was particularly upsetting in an interview with People, saying, “But the comfort I would get would be the fact that everybody around me was okay.” It’s a good idea to hold on. However, everything in the world was not well throughout the pandemic. And it was just the worst.
OCD is defined as a “pattern of unwanted thoughts and fears known as obsessions” by the Mayo Clinic. These obsessions cause you to engage in compulsive activities, or repeating actions. These compulsions and obsessions are very distressing and interfere with day-to-day tasks.
“I’m in a bad dream,” declares the comedian who was born in Canada. “I attempt to ground myself. Mandel remarks, “I have a great family, including my wife Terry and their three children, Riley, Jackie, and Alex, who were married in 1980. “I adore what I do,” However, I can sometimes have periods of deep depression from which I cannot recover.
The best medicine is laughter.
Mandel, who got his big break on the medical drama St. Elsewhere in 1982, says that although every day is difficult, comedy gets him through it.
“I use humor as a coping mechanism. I’m crying if I’m not laughing. I haven’t been transparent enough about how dark and terrible things truly get.
Mandel continues, “I’m most at ease onstage,” adding that he uses humor to fend off the allure of OCD. And it’s not nice when I withdraw inside myself when I have nothing to do.
Mandel consistently finds time for projects, contributing his unmatched sense of humor to all of them. He hosts multiple shows in addition to acting as a judge on the America’s Got Talent (AGT) franchise.
“Very heavily medicated”
He opened up to Kelly Clarkson about his mental health concerns during a conversation they had on her talk show in 2022.
“I have OCD and am neurotic.people believe that because I’m out and about, I’m having fun and enjoying myself.I’m terrified. He said to the host, “I like to go home and just live in the fetal position.”
Clarkson retorted, “It’s so funny to me, because every time I’m around you, even seeing you out of work…you’re so the opposite of what I would think,” looking surprised by Mandel’s shadow persona.
Mandel chuckled, “I know, I’m such a joy, I’m a light, I’m an energy, and I’m stunning.” “..To be really honest, I take a lot of medication.
embracing Reba
He may have been excited to see Reba McEntire on The Voice because of that medicine.
Mandel, a panelist on the show, leaped from the audience and called her name. He then hurried up to the country music expert and said, “We’re right next door shooting the AGT finale.” Could you please sign my shirt?
After McEntire signed his “I [heart] Reba” shirt, Mandel gave an unexpected, tight hug to the audience.
Carson Daly, the show’s host, remarked of the man who usually avoids physical contact, “You don’t see that every day.”
Mandel acknowledges his perplexing actions, saying, “People notice discrepancies, particularly in the media.” “He shook someone’s hand,” or “Oh, he hugged someone.” I’m able to give you a handshake. Then I would believe that I hadn’t cleaned it thoroughly. And I would spend hours washing my hands by going back and forth in a circle.
He goes on, “I understand the funny in that,” determined to continue the discourse about mental health. But that doesn’t lessen how excruciatingly awful it is. I also don’t want to justify my emotional well-being. All I want is to keep it going.
Since Mandel was “boosted” and “vaccinated,” his Covid-19 was mild in 2022, serving as a reminder that being afraid of illness is insufficient to keep you safe.
How do you feel about Howie Mandel’s candor regarding his mental health? Kindly share this story with us and let us know what you think so we can start a discourse!
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