Friday, April 04, 2014

In Which My Brain Is Scattered

I should be doing a lot of things.  Instead!  Here I am typing away.

For instance, my in-laws are, in theory, showing up in town tonight (doubtless at some ungodly inconvenient hour).  Have I cleaned the bathrooms or put away any of the laundry-pile infestation?  Have I acquired any food they would be happy to eat?  I have not.  In fact, we're almost out of bread, too.  They've 'changed their minds' so many times that a) I fail to believe they'll show up until they're at my door and b) I don't give a fuck if they judge my housekeeping.  Even though it's Dr. S's housekeeping, mainly.  (He folds laundry, does dishes, and sweeps, and we split bathroom cleaning.  It's the week before finals, and we were away last weekend, and one of his students just plagiarized something, which generated a tornado of possible-expulsion paperwork and meetings.)

This morning, Bug went to preschool, and then he had a check-up.  When he was crying and kicking in the car ("I don't WANT a shot!") did I calmly and compassionately soothe him?  Did I give him a goodbye hug?  I did not.  (Also he had been screaming, jumping like a frog, and throwing tantrums for an hour, and my compassion was low.)

We are making yet another offer on a house - this one very BLAAAAAH.  I can envision it after $40,000 of new materials and a lot of work, and Dr. S can't, and therefore we are differing degrees of BLAH about it.  However, any house where one's conversation includes, "Well, if we took a prybar to that wall in the basement and knocked out part of the kitchen with a sledgehammer..." will not lead to overwhelming joy.  Perhaps acceptance. We will see.  I can't decide if I'd be sadder if they do or don't accept our offer.  (There are good, logical, reasonable, compelling reasons to buy this house.  None of them are exciting reasons.  This house is that accountant you date in college and you come home and say "Unobjectionable in every way.  Heavens, I was so bored.")

... and now I have to get the child from 'quiet time'*, cook, clean, fold, sign things, go to the real estate agent's office, go to the grocery, go to a consignment sale, go to dinner at the Hillel, and collapse onto the couch just in time for my in-laws to wake up my children.  I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

*Mama needs to eat her lunch in peace, kid.

4 comments:

  1. I get exhausted just reading about it. Hope everyone survives the weekend (or how long is it that they're staying?) unharmed.

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    Replies
    1. Just the weekend; we live a lot closer now. One more morning. So far we're all in one piece - thank you for the good wishes.

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  2. oh, the awful impending in-laws feeling. I hate that. I hope they don't show, but that's just my bias because i cannot stand mine.
    Sounds like your plate is really full right now. Hang on.

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    Replies
    1. They DID show up! It's been less awful than average. Fortunately.

      Deep breath, deep breath...

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