It's not me, it's not you, it's just... *sigh*... the afterlife's bureaucracy.
I was on my way to the altar, and then... BAM! Suddenly, I'm stuck in some limbo-ish purgatory with no Wi-Fi. No phone signal. No decent Wiinners (that's wine-inners, folks). It's a real Bridezilla's nightmare.
Help me, internet! If you're out there somewhere, please send help! Maybe someone has some spare change to help me buy some ectoplasmic therapy sessions? Or a good exorcist?
Here, have a list of ghostly therapy options to look over.
Oh, and if you're a fellow ghost, don't be shy! Let's swap horror stories and commiserate over some ectoplasmic cocktails.
(Or, you know, just leave me alone. I'm trying to haunt this place.)