11 Months

Wow. Speechless. Or maybe it’s type-less? Three hundred and thirty-five days.

It’s been one of the longest, most frustrating weekends of my life. Last week wore me out. We were hardly home all week and it was hot and I had an exceptionally challenging article to read for school. I’m not used to reading being hard for me. I love to read. I make quick work of huge books. But that 91 pages sucked it our of me.

Did I mention it’s been hot? Like upper 90’s hot. But I wasn’t home so I had no time to get my cooler going. Until Saturday. So I got up there and got started on it and just didn’t have the sheer strength to get the little holder bars to pop out of the slots to take the pads out. They were just damn stuck. And I was on the roof and it was mid-morning and already 91° on the ground and in the shade.

So I gave up and came in and tied a wet cloth around my head and took a test and generally felt rotten. The kind of rotten where I would have cried except every drop of spare moisture in my body was already evaporated in sweat.

Icks dropped the kids off and then wanted to talk. Um. Have I mentioned that it is impossible to communicate with someone who won’t say what he means and is incapable of listening? Yeah. It sucked. Massively. I refuse to do that shit in front of the kids so we were out on the porch in the heat. I won’t bore you with the details but it got harder and harder to hold my cool. Especially has he started right off with drama. Somehow I never get the script he wants me to follow. I probably should have known to run the other way years ago when he told me everything he knows about healthy relationships he learned from sitcoms. Clearly a very different understanding than my almost tv-less, live in reality, upbringing.

Finally. Get the kids a bath and put them to bed fully intending a shower for my own stinky, sweaty, miserable self. But the tub won’t drain. I try everything. A friend calls and gives me some good tips. Nothing works. I’m really desperate for a shower and feeling more and more frustrated and incompetent. I keep messing with it way too late but I REALLY NEEDED A SHOWER. Did I mention I’d spent the day irrigating the trees, cursing the cooler, standing on the porch sweating buckets and by then also desperately trying to plunge the tub?

BUT I still made it to bed completely clean. Filthy and frustrated and flooded but otherwise fine. Yeah. Somehow I didn’t anticipate a literal flood in the form of a stopped drain when I wrote my 40 days post. God has quite the sense of humor. Or at least that’s what I want to think.

I missed church. There wasn’t any going anywhere until I got my shower. (A friend did offer that I could stop by and get one on the way but by then it was late enough I wouldn’t have made it anyways.)

The good news is that thanks to some good help the tub has been snaked and now drains beautifully and the cooler has been cleaned and started.

I even still had time to take the kids for a nice visit with my dad. I let him win accidentally threw him a game of checkers. It’s been at least 20 years since we played, probably closer to 25. J was quite tickled to hear I lost.

Yet I am truly bone tired and Monday starts another round of on the go everyday all week. And my allergies are acting up today. I try not to take benadryl as it makes me groggy and stupid but tonight looks to be a good time to resort to drastic measures as the regular non-drowsy meds aren’t cutting it. But yes, benadryl is the strongest thing I’ve ingested in 11 months, despite having just been hit with a pile of “reasons” avoid reality and try to find something to numb the pain. Everything hurts tonight. My back. My knees. My hands. I worked my rear off the last two days and coped with a heavy dose of everything that can go wrong at once. But here I am. A bit ragged but none-the-worse for the wear.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be sane enough and not still un-stressing to write a more up-beat post. Tonight I’m going to go have a snack and crawl into a clean bed. And be so grateful to be clean (and washed!). The little things. I can take a shower. I can keep my house under 90°. I have food even if we are out of milk and bread and somehow I didn’t get to the store in the middle of the rest. I have more than enough.

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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