You know those women who yell at their husbands when they're in labor, "YOU did this to me!"? I'm feeling like one of them.
Bless Mr. W's heart for proposing to me. And convincing me to buy a house. I just wish it wouldn't have happened all at the very same time. The pains of these labors are making me want to treat him like the man who got me pregnant.
We are in the throes of escrow. Which is probably totally cool if you don't have deadlines at work and 96 ribbons to glue to 96 candle holders. No, I take that back. Everyone I know who has ever bought a house said it was stressful.
Much like working in advertising, there's a lot of "We need this RIGHT now!" So you frantically scramble to produce requested items, and then you sit. Every day this week, I've come home to a different packet of stuff on the front porch that needs to be signed and returned. I'm ready to amputate my own hand just so I can have a break from signing papers.
Then there's the behemoth of a To Do list I'm carrying around in my mind. ALL the packing. ALL the moving of things. The garage sale I need to have. The couch I need to sell. The envelopes I need to print for our wedding invitations. And Thanksgiving is only 42 days away! The holidays are coming!
It's enough to make me want to grab someone by the collar and tell them to give me drugs and wake me up when it's all over. I would say, "Thank God we're going to Santa Barbara to drink wine for the weekend," but I almost think I'd rather be here cleaning out closets...