Friday, July 19, 2013

venting

Another guest blogger! In response to yesterday's whiny post, my dear friend M. sent me an e-mail, titled "Figured I'd write my blog entry, if I had one." It was too good not to share, and she graciously agreed that I could. Names have been redacted to protect the innocent/guilty but otherwise it is in all its unedited glory, including her postscript. Love you too, M.!

Got your voicemail!  No worries that I called you Tuesday and you called me back Thursday - LOL!  We are real friends who get it that life takes over and crap happens and the next thing you know, you haven't used the bathroom all f'ing day because one child or another needed you to chauffeur them somewhere or some house item needed attending to or your husband needed you to find the ketchup bottle in the door of the fridge where it's been for 23 darn years!  Real friends don't judge or get upset!  I love you my friend so never sweat that petty shit.  I know what summers are like with 3 kids home - I really detest them being home and dread every June. 

Anyway - I just called to say hi and to vent.  No one really appreciates what I do - sound pathetic right?  I created this mess being the one driving the move out of "Ed Scissorhandsville" - can I name my development that?  Closing on the purchase is set for 7/29 and movers coming 8/2.  Ask me how many rooms are packed in our whole house?  3. Yes, you read that right, 3 f'ing rooms packed and one is the foyer but hey - there is plenty of time.  Good thing is that if the shit isn't packed when the movers come, [my husband] and the boys will be moving the shit themselves so f'it.  I wake up at 4am staring at the ceiling with questions, worries, anxiety.  I keep waiting for the shoe to drop - the mortgage to fall apart or the sale to fall through or the house to be a money pit or worse yet.  It's really terrible. 

Tonight we are taking [my daughter] to a Taylor Swift concert in 125 degree heat at the Eagles stadium - why you ask?  Because someone couldn't say NO F'ING WAY - oh... and that wasn't me.  The boys refused to go and at $60 ticket I can't say I was upset.  They are home - happily packing their shit (NOT!!)

It could be worse right?  Instead of my office feeling like a flipping rain forest because the AC can't get the dampness out, I might have no power?  Or, instead of having crap to pack and the funds to buy boxes, I might be homeless - right?  Trying to see the upside.  Right now - your "yarn cave" sounds very appealing.

All my love,
M.

PS - sorry for the potty mouth - 

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