Sitcom World

I was thinking the other day (yes, me, thinking) that I sometimes wish life were more like a sitcom.
Let me introduce you to Sitcom World(Registered Trademark).
Your relationship problems could be sorted by performing some deed for your partner, with the intention of them not finding out, just a totally selfless act, but in Sitcom World they would find out somehow and that would make them realise how wonderful their partner was and they would fall in love all over again.
Or if someone is diagnosed with an illness, a serious illness, and they are shocked and stunned and upset, but it turns out they have the same name as the person who REALLY have the illness and so they do NOT have two months to live after all (never mind the other poor fucker who actually is going to die - you never meet them in Sitcom World).
Another example, when you are walking home late at night, on your own, you can have all manner of fun adventures in Sitcom World, because you keep hearing things, or seeing things, that make you scared and jumpy and can have over exaggerated reactions that leave you laughing in the end, instead of walking home and meeting a group of teenagers out of their heads on cheap beer and poppers who surround you and kick the living shit out of you and leave you in intensive care with a wired shut jaw and a fractured skull.
Everyone's job in Sitcom World is fun, well paid, and a pleasure to do, rather than the mindless, droning, brain death that we have to live through.

Sitcom World. Who wouldn't want to live there?

Following on from Phil's comment - in Sitcom World, your house would never get dirty, dusty or dilapidated. Bulbs never go, unless its a good moment for an amusing "fumbling in the dark" anecdote. Mortgage payments never go up, and homes are never repossessed. If there is any danger of a repossession it's always saved by a last minute find of cash that no one knew existed before the moment it was needed. Ever tried laying your hands on £50,000 at short notice? Whereas in Sitcom World the money is found with just enough time to spare, and everyone ends up laughing and drinking champagne toasting to a bright future (What about next months payment??), in reality you're evicted, and end up living on the street in a box from a washing machine drinking meths and swearing at the demons that constantly dance around your fucked up head.