Well So Much For That....

Yeah the whole posting with Children thing does not work well for me. How long has it been? a month? Two? I cannot seem to find the time to write, yet this morning I am compelled to at least find some times to scrawl things down.

It is dark, quiet, and my little world sleeps other than the cat demanding that her hunger be put to rest, then she rails on after I put the food down about something else, jumps into my lap while I sit at the computer and write and then goes on to try to wake up other people as well. Hush little girl! There is a small candle lit at the table, flickering at the air conditioner's hum. There is a warm cup of tea waiting for me at my elbow. I just heard the quiet snort of my husband in the bedroom. I thought it was his rumblings that kept me awake, but it was my own body.

Ever since my gallbladder was removed, I cannot ingest large quantities of alcohol, fats or medication without my liver giving me grief in the form of keeping me up at night. It is as if it wants me to share in the joy and misery of ridding my body of toxins and last night was not helpful for it. A glass of red wine, the wrong item served to me with a spicy red sauce with bacon in it... it was tasty and a vicodin chaser at night due to back pain. It all leads up to me rolling over and over, cursing softly at my husband for snoring and "keeping me up" but in fact it is my own misery that does so.

That's ok. I am starting something new in September and we will see how it goes. Perhaps I can dial it back so that perhaps I can enjoy just one glass of wine... and yes, I realize that taking a pill not long after wine is really not a good idea. I dream of smaller clothes that do not look like tents.

The sun is finally turning the world gray in its quest to rise. The neighborhood is coming to light around me, the neighborhood I despise right now. I feel like the house worked for me before, but now we are bursting at the seams with stuff and clothes and toys and kitchen paraphernalia. My eyes are set on a new house not far from here. I put down a deposit on it and now we are working hard to sell ours.

But the working hard part is the issue. We are spending money on it, but not putting the sweat equity and labor into it. It is as if we are both saying, you first without saying it. I rented a storage box, but have yet to open and put the boxes that I have had done for some time into it. That will come with time. I should be doing a box a day. 30 minutes a day and I scoff. It sounds great on paper and in my counselor's office, but just like writing, finding the time...

So I am taking Monday off of work to do the inspection on the house I want to buy and to look at the stuff in the living room. My plan is to leave the items they play with the most, books, blocks, and a few annoying electronic things and box up the rest so that we can get a handle on the stuff factor. Then we will move along with boxing up stuff. and then I get to pull off the wallpaper in the living room and prep the walls for paint. I am not sure what I will find. It looks ugly.

I still love this house but it feels like an albatross.