Interesting weather we’re having here, isn’t it? While most of the country is burning up, my little corner of the world is experiencing a deluge that might become record-breaking. The water is pouring from the sky in monsoon-like torrents. The thing is, I live in a region not known to ever experience monsoons. We don’t have tornadoes either, so I’m hoping that’s not next on the weird weather agenda these days.
The rain is definitely good for us. Though my area is known to be a bit rainy at this time of the year, rains of this magnitude usually occur in January and are accompanied by colder weather and snow in the mountains. It’s raining like it is January, but it is 64 degrees out. And it’s the middle of the night.
I love summer rains. I love them even if they keep me up at night. I’m tempted to go brew a cup of coffee and sit out on my upper deck. Sitting in the rain soaked air with a cuppa joe at night, just listening to the rhythmic cadence of raindrops on roof, and on cedars sounds like a heavenly idea. Maybe if I took a blanket, I could fall asleep out there.
I won’t do it though. I’m certain to wake someone up. I don’t mind that I’m up at night. In fact, I’m becoming more and more accustomed to these late night rendezvous with my tiny iPhone screen, and the WordPress app. This does not mean others in my home would view wakefulness at this hour with the same charitable nature. So, out of consideration for them, and to save the neighbors from hearing the rest of the family yelling at me in the middle of the night, I’ll save the coffee-in-the-rain idea for a night when I am all alone.
The rain does sound so very nice…and far away…so does the rumbling thunder accompanying it.
3:27 a.m. Wide awake, even after taking a vicoden that was prescribed for me a while back when I had pneumonia and a kidney infection.
Stress is not a good way to endure a day. It isn’t a good way to end a day. And my entire day was stress-filled.
Actually, my entire month has been stressful.
It was going so well, too.
But then, the creditors are calling…this will end soon.
And the mortgage companies are trying to call.
And the mortgage people are driving by and sending representatives to the door.
And the boyfriend lied to the guy and told him I was not living here (The truth? I looked like sh** and was still in my pajamas. There’s no way I was going to answer the door. What part of “Tell him I’m not available right now” did he miss?)
And…while I know all this will end…the question is when and how long?
I know I’ll have to move…the question is when…and how long…and will I be able to rent anywhere…because I sure as heck am not buying. I won’t have the credit to do that again for a while. That’s okay. I haven’t needed my FICO score at all for the last 4 years. Everything I do these days is on a cash only basis. I’m stressing about the where to move, the when to move and the “will I even be accepted” parts of that picture.
A few months ago, I made the decision to radically change my life. Well, it is radical for me. I have a great job, but I’m taking yet another pay cut. I have great insurance, but soon, I’m going to be paying more out-of-pocket for that insurance. I’m already kind of getting overwhelmed with the existing out-of-pocket expenses created from the insurance changes last year, and now this year is going to add more to that part of my adult plate. When the real estate market collapsed, my house, which I purchased on my own (read not with the aid of a spouse’s income), decreased in value just like nearly everyone else’s. Problem is, I could work for the next three lifetimes and never earn back what I owe on it. Result: I can never sell the thing in this lifetime for what I owe on it.
It’s a no-brainer, right?
But the financial transitions are not the stressful part. Okay, they are part of the stressful part.
The boyfriend telling the mortgage company that I no longer live here was kind of stressful.
The ex serving me papers ordering me back to court so he can have more parenting time with our child (not a good thing, in this case, and I’m usually an advocate of dad’s rights) was VERY stressful, because this means, I’ll have to cough up another $3K-$10K to deal with that issue. Wonderful timing.
Impending responsibility changes at work are stressful because I just don’t know how or if I will be successful or if I will be provided adequate support in order to even attempt success…or is this a carefully designed “set up to fail” plot?
And then, there’s all the stuff on the home front.
Moving, even if it is in the foreseeable-but-not-certain-when future, is a great time to ditch crap that has accumulated. I’m still digging out from the crap accumulated by my last ex. He seriously could have been the star of that TV show “Hoarders”. The junk he left behind has taken me four years, countless numbers of trailer loads to the landfill, thousands of overflowing garbage canisters, and endless trips to Goodwill to dispose of it all. I’m still digging out from under it. Mostly, though, I’m down to the place where I’m getting rid of the excess, the broken stuff, the no-longer-used stuff.
Anyone want to buy a juicer? How about a table saw or a lawn mower?
But try to get my kids to go through their cluttered rooms and actually part with anything? That’s got stress stamped all over it.
First, it’s the fight and the whining about having to do something even remotely akin to “work” when it is “their” summer vacation.
When did my kids become so resistant to cooperating?
Then it’s the mere organization of the task. Get a garbage bag and put all the trash and broken stuff in the bag. Get a box and put all the stuff you no longer use or want in there. The whole process required that I stand guard over them all day. The minute I went to try to work on anything else, they were suddenly done with the job. Wait, just a minute. It took them almost 8 years to create that mess and they are done sorting through it in ten minutes? No. I don’t think so.
Arguing with my children, especially my son, who is having the most difficult time with the impending transitions lately, is the worst.
Then one daughter, while at work, sprains her ankle, ends up on crutches and I happen to be the world’s least nurturing parent for things like that. Add negative image of self as parent to the whole stress pile.
Then the boyfriend begins criticizing my kids again (his are perfect, you know, since they only ever have to be told once and they don’t make messes). So, then, I begin thinking…that along with all the other stress that we are having to manage with no definite end in sight…that this critical demeanor…can’t go on much longer either. In fact, it needs to stop really, really soon.
Of course, not sleeping at night is not healthy nor is it good for my weight loss program…so, of course, I worry about that now since I’m up and thinking about it anyway.
And when is that Vicoden going to kick in? I took it three hours ago. With my luck…it will kick in at about 3:00 tomorrow afternoon (I guess it is today now)…when I have to take the youngest to her dentist appointment. Great. I’ll be falling asleep in the waiting room. Like that’s not going to screw things up at all.
Stress. Not a great way to endure a day. An even worse way to spend the night.