First, let me tell you that because of a city bus strike, my usual 45 minute commute to and from downtown to work has turned into a 2-to-3 hour ONE WAY drive-from-hell-with-a-dose-of-why-the-FUCK-didn't-I-pee-again-before-I-left-the-house-to-do-this-cocksucking-bullshit-drive-AGAIN?! I'm sure you're shocked to know that I swear, but the terminology that usually floats from my brain and out my mouth during this time is so much worse, consider yourself lucky that I'm not typing it here.
The knuckleheads-in-charge don't appear to be in any sort of rush to get this sorted out, which is unbelieveably frustrating on so many levels, not the least of which is that they're screwing with everyone's Christmas shopping
Second, hubby is trying to fix a severe water problem at home. The water is somewhat contaminated. And by contaminated, I mean that it's okay to wash and brush our teeth, but really, we shouldn't be washing or brushing our teeth with it. Hubby has readied a filter system, which seems to be working, except that if the filter doesn't work out we may need to drill a new well. And I'm not sure how much you know about country living, but I've found out recently that it's just a little bit pricey to dig a hole down into frozen ground searching for sparkling Evian-like water.
Third, hubby and I decided that we could no longer live with our living room looking like it has. It didn't look or feel like it was even ours, in our house, but rather a collecting ground for older family members to store their shit. You wouldn't necessarily think that ugly-to-you furniture and paint colors could stress you out, but I'm here to tell you, YES IT CAN. Picture extremely dark green walls. Picture flowery, fluffy, dark green & burgundy colored loveseat and lazy-boy type chair. Picture an 8-foot-long dark-dusty-rose-pink sofa. Therein lies the nightmare we've been living with for far too long. It looked like an interior designer from 1982 barfed in there. We bought new furniture and he has been sanding and painting colors that I picked out, and he very succintly informed me late last night that he's not happy with these new colors. Actually, it was more along the lines of "These new colors suck. REALLY SUCK. They're too princessy-fairy-like." My response was to beat him over the head with a paint brush.
Fourth, our daughter has reverted back to the good ol' days of kicking, slapping, crying, and screaming with full-on temper tantrums. Mummy's just about ready to stockpile vodka, and Daddy is wishing it was May and he could go fishing. The reality is that she's in a new daycare and she does not adjust well to change. This does not bode well for the day I plan to ship her off to a boarding school in Switzerland, oh, but lightbulb!, it'll be someone else's problem then...
Fifth, we haven't started our Christmas shopping. Christmas Eve is 8 days away. For someone who is usually slightly more organized (as in I start shopping and putting things away in July), this is tantamount to a full-scale, five-alarm, wheezing, chest-pain-inducing panic attack.
Which brings me to the sixth thing. All of these stresses are not helping reduce my depression which has arrived, not completely full-on, but close enough that getting up to do this another day is utterly draining and soul-sucking.
And this brings me to the seventh thing. If not for my hubby, whose arms hold me close at night to chase my demons away; if not for my son, who I guiltily feel isn't getting enough attention these days, but who makes me laugh and forget for a moment about all this other stuff; if not for my daughter who is constantly challenging me to be a better mother and who wants to be held like a baby...If not for them, all this crap wouldn't be worth it.
Because of them, I can and I will and I do get up and go another day.
No comments:
Post a Comment