The highs and lows of parenting and real estate.

Compartmentalizing My Pain

We are leaving for family vacay in 24 hours and I am a MESS. I think my hair is starting to fall out from stress and my hands haven’t stopped shaking in roughly 5 days. I’ve decided I just need to compartmentalize my feelings so that my stomach will stop acting like a churning, writhing miniature version of the ocean in that one Marky Mark movie about the storm.

Stress and guilt over hellish house deal that just. wouldn’t. close. – Tucked into a little box and put away in a drawer of my sewing table.

Unladylike murderous feelings for the appraiser who came out to the house THREE TIMES and still insists the gas and electricity are not on even though I almost caught my hair on fire yesterday leaning over the stove when we turned it on to check – Stuffed in an empty wine bottle, corked and rolled behind the fridge.

Nervousness that there are actually not enough hours left before we leave to get all five of us packed, the car cleaned and ready and meals planned and groceries bought – Wadded into a ball and tossed in the back corner of the cabinet in the laundry room I have trouble reaching so I never open.

Guilt and self-loathing over the fact that I haven’t run or exercised in SIX DAYS and I’m still not even 200 pages into Infinite Jest for my book group and various other things I just always hate myself about – Smoothed flat like a piece of paper, rolled into a tube and shoved down the drain of shower in the downstairs bathroom we never use.

Whew. I’m starting to feel a little better. You know how The Bloggess has that Zazzle shop where she puts weird shit onto note pads and t-shirts and coffee mugs and stuff? (One time for Christmas I bought my dad a notebook from there that said on the front, “People to Kill*” and then at the bottom in teeny, almost unreadable writing, “*With kindness”.) I kind of want to start one for this blog and have my first thing be a t-shirt that says, “Mornings are for regret and self-loathing.”

And really, some of these things will resolve themselves, I think. It’s going to be lovely and cool in Encinitas (we’re staying the same house we did when I wrote this¬†and this) and I will totally be able to go running during the day, right? And it turns out that appraiser is going to have to actually go back out one more time to the house while the buyer is living there so they can point out to him that the gas and electricity ARE on and I actually think the female buyer might shank him when he walks in the door and bury his body in the backyard under the new shed they’re installing. Which he would deserve.

So all’s well that ends well. And yes, this post was fairly pointless, but cathartic for me, so I’m going to end it with a plug for my favorite pointless and cathartic hobby, Trapeze!

I was out at TrapezeU last Friday working on a couple of new tricks.

This one was called something about a heel flip (I can’t remember the name):

And I think this one is called the whip:

But check this out, my class was almost completely empty, I guess because it’s summer and it’s hot out (which is ridiculous because it’s not THAT hot and they have a portable outdoor AC), so it was just me and one other girl. The other girl, Tammy, is one of the trapeze superstars who practices a few times a week. So insanely, they let her do this shit without a harness (which made me very tense, but she didn’t die, so it was ok). Get a load of her gnarly layout trick sans harness:

So my point is, if you’ve ever wanted to try trapeze, NOW is when you should. Small classes = more chances to fly and way more awesomeness. And we all need to get out there and support this local biz because it’s rad and rad things are hard to come by.


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