Sunday, November 14, 2010


Um, long time no blog? Talk about being skint with words. Car troubles and additional drama subdued me into silence. Because drama, ew. I can’t even speak about it.

So last week I ordered a Domino’s pizza for dinner that we then ate for lunch, and dinner, and lunch and dinner. And I’ve never been so dehydrated in my life. Total pizza hangover, complete with dry lips and a headaches that weren’t kidding around.

Otherwise, we have all our fingers and toes crossed at the moment that a lease deal on a house works out. You’ve seen pictures. It’s all sort of lovely and I have a good feeling about it, although we all know where that sometimes gets us.

I’ve been uber-impatient throughout this entire process, in accordance with my nature, but I do realize what a tall order I’ve put in and appreciate the intricate lengths to which that order is being addressed.

Also, I’m somewhat in denial about the packing process – not avoiding it, but not acknowledging, for now, its latent repercussions. Because I’ve been packing slowly for over two months, and now that process is speeding up, and then it’s going to evolve into loading and transporting and unloading, and then ick. Unpacking. You know I don’t like having my life disheveled so much and for so long. But what’s there to do other than suck it up and embrace the process?

And I took on the baby-clothes-in-the-attic situation this weekend. Not coincidentally, I was also on suicide watch. The sheer number of boxes and the feeling of what-have-I-done, saving all of these things. I mean, I guess if we had stayed in this house as I had imagined and ended up putting one set or another (boy/girl) to use, it would have all seemed worth it. But to take it all with us? Agh. Burden. Ginormous. Can’t handle. So after all the donating that will occur over the next few days, we’ll be left with a mere five or so boxes that have an intended recipient, and that seems reasonable. I guess.

I can’t even talk about what’s left in the attic. I mean, it’s not horrible, comparatively. But there’s still plenty up there to be reckoned with. Including two boxes of papers. MFA and college papers, specifically. I mean – ? WTF. I know, I know – the legacy argument. But seriously m, what are we supposed to do, line our coffins in that stuff?

All right all right. I promise to blog more this upcoming week. And I expect annotations and footnotes from your world, at the very least.


1 comment:

somebody's mom said...

Stuff, so much stuff. If only M was there, she would whip through it just like ripping off a bandage. And she would leave a morsel or two in a bag in plain site that you could retrieve and feel in control and that you had your favorite items after all