I'm tempted to do an early "Whiny Wednesday" post but I did it early last week and all day long on Wednesday I thought it was Thursday and I can't afford to lose a day this week.
Buck up, buttercup! That's my theme for the week. This moving stuff is not for the faint of heart or weak of spine. I set a few goals for yesterday, handled them all plus a few more. I set a few goals for today and I managed all of them by 1pm plus a whole lot more since then. My fear is that the more I do in the early part of the week, the less I'll be able to do at crunch time but... who am I kidding? It's already crunch time. The panic is setting in.
And Austin's room... oh, sweet Jesus... and I don't mean that in vain, I truly mean that as a prayer... I bought these huge, really sturdy contractor grade trash bags and I filled two in his room and it's nowhere near finished. Why was I cleaning his room? Because it has to be cleaned and he isn't going to do it. I'm not happy about it. I cried the whole time I was in there because I feel so abandoned in this process and because I'm so discouraged that at 18 I'm still having the same issues I had with him when he was six.
And because, to be honest with you, it made me really not care where he goes to live. Let someone else deal with him. I don't want to feel that way about my child but that's how I feel. I may have actually said, "to hell with him" but I don't really mean that. I just can't do it any more. I can't clean up behind him.
So now my back is killing me and there is so. much. more to do. I picked Austin up from his married friend's house this afternoon (where he's been for the past two days and would have been another day if I hadn't had a meltdown over the phone with him) anyways, on the way home I told him what I needed him to do and, as always, I'm the bad guy for holding his feet to the fire. There's no remorse or apology, just anger.
I just keep thinking about what my brother told him when we were having a particularly ugly time. Bubba told Austin that once he became an adult that we basically had a roommate agreement and we both had to agree to the terms. Frankly... he's a bad tenant and I want him out. All that being said, it will rip my heart out to leave him, I know that he's not ready to act as an independent adult and I would move heaven and earth for him (trust me, that's what it feels like I did for him today). But it's not going to be on his terms any more. It's not even on my terms any more.
Both of the agents I interviewed with two weeks ago have "gone in a different direction". I've got a third that I've been talking to and tested for this week. I don't know if they're hitting the same road block... or if I'm too expensive... or too unreliable... or what the problem is. It's discouraging but I haven't given up. Yet. The money is running out and even if I'm not supporting my own household, we still have expenses like car insurance and medical bills and so forth. I have to have an income somehow.
But it hasn't been all hard work and grief. I worked some more on my genealogy research and I found some cool stories. Well, I think they're cool. I've got a couple saved to share with you when I don't have riveting things to share with you like... my hard work and frustration.
Tomorrow I'm getting everything out of my closet and *hopefully* packing up the kitchen.
Thursday we're making a trip to the dump.
Friday I'm planning to move as much as we can to the storage place.
Saturday we're renting the UHaul and Cody is coming up to help. That's when the rest of everything needs to go to the storage place or to mom and dad's house. I'm spending Saturday night at Jim and Angie's since my bed will be gone...and...
Sunday I'm cleaning the rest of the nest, not that I have any hopes of getting back our security deposit thanks to Austin's room, I just don't want to leave a mess... and by Sunday night I'll be at mom and dad's.
That's the plan, anyways. Always subject to change. And hopefully this is the last meltdown I'll have between now and then. Happy Tuesday, y'all.
The Lost Mail and Express Building - 203 Broadway
10 hours ago
1 comments:
Ah, the defiant teen. My son is now 21 and as much as I hated to do it he got the boot after returning from his first year(and only year)at Ole Miss. I really hated to do it but...rules are rules and he didn't like mine so now he's out setting his own.
Post a Comment