Today is a not very good grip day.
We had a couple full, stressy, borderline sucktacular weeks leading up to this past weekend. And I suppose Friday just tipped me past my deal-with abilities.
I spent most of Saturday in bed. I just had no energy for anything.
My dad is still in the hospital. They get his blood pressure down, and then it goes back up. I'm sure just being there is hugely anxiety provoking, which doesn't help. Mondays are busy in the heart unit. The doctor should get to him around noon.
My mom is holding up OK, but it's a lot of stress. It's just really scary, you know?
I mean, there are a number of expendable corporeal bits, but your heart is one of the few essentials.
I hate thinking about it.
And we had a date set to sell Nick's place, and we were counting down to closing, but the offer was contingent on a couple things. And now they can legitimately back out if they want.
Which directly impacts our ability to buy a new place. A new place on which, yesterday, it seemed like we couldn't get on the same page.
Which immediately threw me into this state of, "We clearly have totally different goals in life and I would give up space for location and you'd happily relegate us to boring life in the suburbs where we guzzle gas and drive everywhere and I never get to see my friends and our kid is surrounded by boring shiny white people and maybe you should just go ahead and marry your second wife already. Even though she'll be Republican and make you live in Great Falls."
And so you could say there is this housing limbo.
And maybe a lot of unfair allegations. On my part.
And a million back-and-forth agent calls. All of which Nick is handling.
While at the same time picking up all of the physical slack at home.
While also dealing with a crazypants, loathesome wife who is all, "I hate this and I hate how you chew and I'm tired and my feet are swollen and are you really going to have another beer and why is it still so fucking cold and this is the wrong pillow and seriously, if you do that one more goddamn time I'm really going to stab you! And look at all these veins and is my belly button going to turn into an outie and fuck fuck fuck I'm never going to be attractive again and IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT. Oh, and could you get me a glass of water?"
Why he hasn't stuck arsenic in my coffee by now is beyond me.