I know some people say that Week of our Lives is a little ‘out there’, but I really don’t get it. I just feel like it’s regular life, with the volume turned up a bit. Regular life, but with a dash of excitement tossed in that you don’t get in the real world. It’s pretty unlikely for Pamela to return from her six-year round trip of Australia to announce they she’d married a shaman and had eight children, all of whom were animal shape-shifters and would one day save the world from a great darkness, which causes her former fiance to make an attempt on her life out of jealousy by spiking a bouquet of roses with fish oil causing her to have an ironic allergic reaction at her welcome home party, but…it could happen. Probably not, but it COULD.
But then, sometimes there’s a story that doesn’t make so much sense, and it rubs me up the wrong way. I mean…Delia moving a conveyancing firm in Melbourne, dealing in vendors statements and the like? Are the writers NUTS? Delia’s early life was marked with resentment as she was born into Juggling Travelling Circus. From before she could walk, Delia was dolled up in ugly clown makeup and forced to be a staple in the show, always moving on and never having any friends. So the writers expect us to believe that she’d become a conveyancer, a job that helps people move around the place? With HER past? It’s too much to accept. The real life conveyancers of Melbourne have to be up in arms about this one. Like, I bet it takes a certain constitution to do property conveyancing, you know? You have to be the type who’d be okay with things always changing, getting new clients and then not seeing them again because they’ve moved away (of course they have, because that’s your job). Like. I admire the courage and sacrifice displayed by people doing conveyancing in Melbourne’s South East, right now, at this very second.
You’ve gone too far, Week of Our Lives. And I never thought I’d say that, except in the few instances where I have already.