So I’m still here. And alive. 
Kind of anyway.
This remodel and the resulting gypsy-dom has been HARD. We still aren’t home and it doesn’t look like we’ll be living at Casa de Fitting at least for another two weeks. Relying on the kindness of strangers and family is one thing… this is ANOTHER.
Help.
Let’s be honest though… this isn’t something that happened TO us. I would imagine that by seeking out a contractor, telling him what we want and actually PAYING him, it means that we are responsible for all of the madness in our lives. These are first-world, amazing-to-have problems, but they are still a huge pain in the ass. I just want my house back. I want my life back. But the five pounds I’ve gained from eating too much takeout and drinking away my stress? You can keep it.
It’s amazing how much this process has taught me. It’s taught me that my kids are incredibly flexible and able to live anywhere. It’s taught me that being organized is so important, especially when moving back and forth from one house to another, or living in a space that isn’t yours. It’s also taught me that I am none of the above… neither flexible nor organized.
So yeah, THIS has been a reality check.
I never realized how much I rely on controlling my space to control my life… because I’ve never really felt like that much of a control freak. I’m not a highly organized person to begin with, but I feel like I know my space and can work with my strengths and weakness to… you know, at least keep everyone alive.
But during this process I have floundered as a mother and a homemaker and it’s been a bit of a shock. Appointments have passed us by. Meals have gone unmade. Laundry has piled up and the home where we are staying has gone uncleaned. My online life has suffered, my real life has suffered and I am like, whoa… I kind of SUCK right now. I mean, are you READING this? I can barely form coherent sentences in the English language.
Gah.
I know that this too shall pass. I know that. But with weeks left in the process and already in the fourth week of living in someone else’s space, I’m just ready. I want my life back. And I would like to un-fuck my program please.
Hold Me. Tell me it gets better. Tell me it will all be over soon.
And tell me to stop being such a fucking baby.
Thanks.
