Burning down the house.. and the neighbouring ones as well

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Almost. Luckily I smelt what The Rock was cooking or else there would have been hellfire and brimstones coming out of a big red machine. Phew. It's horrible. All people in the household were sleeping and I was at room as per usual doing anything that involves regret and malice. Dad's entire home-cooked meal became soup d'etat. Glad my sense of smell is still tremendously effective. I never would have imagined what it feels like to lose a home. They would have killed me right then and there and all the burden of the world would be on my shoulders, even worse a visit to the morgue. I swear sometimes I really hate myself for being a damn klutz. Woe is me.

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