~ My husband said we'd be out of our house by last weekend. I have been busting my hump to get us out of this house by this weekend. I've even got things that I use on a weekly (not daily) basis all packed up and out. This took a crazy amount of effort on my part.
~ Now we are not going to totally vacate the house prior to selling it. WHAT?! So the plan has changed, okay. That's fine, but if you know my husband, our son, or our dog, you'll completely understand why I'm freaking out at the prospect of keeping the house clean, in order, and "show-ready" until it sells. Not to mention that I've already packed up things that I use fairly frequently because we weren't going to be staying here!
~ I'm in the process of explaining how to coordinate completely loading the portable storage thing as full as possible, getting it picked up and off our driveway, getting the driveway guys to fix our driveway (will take a week), getting everything that's left in the house in the garage, getting a place to stay temporarily while the outside and inside of the house is painted (this will also take about a week). And tree trimming fits in there somewhere.
~ In the last seven weeks, I've experienced more days with blood flowing out of my body than I have had days without. It's not like hormonal imbalances wreak havoc with your emotions, right? Ha! In a word, it's stressful and exhausting. Well, I guess that's two words, but you know what I mean.
~ My progesterone suppositories are definitely causing my body to experience symptoms very similar to early pregnancy. Plus I get the benefit of spotting all the time - except the spotting stops when I rest. Rest? Yeah, when exactly can I do that? I'd love to crawl into a wine bottle at night, but I'm not 100% certain that I'm not pregnant because I still haven't had a period yet. And I feel dangerously close to spending another two hours crying today because:
~ I just discovered this morning that my husband will be working - again - tonight. Indeed, he will be working three evenings per week for the next three weeks. I guess six days and two evenings per week just wasn't enough time for me as a single parent. If you know my high-energy son, you know why this is so distressing to me. Put simply, I NEED the break that I can kinda get when my husband is around.
~ I'd finally got back in the swing of things, socializing and having fun with friends, and I necessarily had to pull back and get this stuff done at the house. Except I guess it wasn't so necessary after all. At least, it wasn't nearly as urgent. Now I feel frustrated, angry, and isolated.
And people wonder why I can't relax. I'm tempted to disappear on vacation for a couple of weeks. The only problem with that is I'm pretty sure all work will stop until I return so there would be no point in getting away only to deal with the same bullsh*t when I return.