The Nelly Fix
I've been pretty cranky since we moved. Okay, more than cranky. I've been downright b*tchy.
I couldn't figure it out. I mean, I've got everything moving in the right direction. Generally. Yes, moving is stressful, but it can't be worse than two years of grad school while working full-time and raising a child, right? If I can get through two years of that, I can get through anything, right?
In a call with my BIL the other day, I lamented about the lack of space in our temporary home. And when I say lack of space, I don't mean "it's a little tight." Or even, "we're a little cramped." Or, "this is a great way to downsize." I mean, "I have no f*cking space. And no f*cking place to put anything I need to keep/use, much less anything I might want to keep/use." He said that perhaps this experience is a great way for me to push back against my AR tendencies, to relax more.
Right.
When I was in college, I lived, at two different times, with two complete slobs. Those experiences pushed me from being a quirky neatfreak to full-blown obsessive compulsive about things being in their place. Don't blame me, blame them.
What I have learned in the last week+ of living here is that being in such tight quarters makes me want to scream if even one thing is slightly out of place. Which, if you've ever moved, means that in my world right now everything is way out of place.
So I run around and keep cramming things into places they don't really fit, in a vain attempt to get us to some semblance of organization. It works, for awhile. Until my family comes home.
And then today, on the phone with M, I lost my shit entirely. Full-blown melt-down. Since we have moved in here, I have lost numerous possessions, including one of the cats (almost). We have burnt dinner and melted a pot on a stove that has two settings: off and nuclear fusion. (Ironically, on this same stove the oven doesn't work at all.) I have sliced a finger open, and continue to bang various parts of my body into walls and furniture. When we melted the pot we damn near burned the entire place down. We've had to plunger both the bath drain and the kitchen sink, and we installed a low-flow shower head from the old house so that more than one person can have hot water for their shower in the morning.
In venting to a friend this morning, I said, "I feel like I'm as cranky as the woman who lived here before me." And we realized that there might be some serious negative energy going on in this space. She googled house cleansing and told me I need sage and to do something called smudging.
Well, I don't have sage, nor do I have anything smudge-worthy, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I have two eucalyptus candles burning and Nelly blaring. We call it an "Urban Cleansing." A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
I couldn't figure it out. I mean, I've got everything moving in the right direction. Generally. Yes, moving is stressful, but it can't be worse than two years of grad school while working full-time and raising a child, right? If I can get through two years of that, I can get through anything, right?
In a call with my BIL the other day, I lamented about the lack of space in our temporary home. And when I say lack of space, I don't mean "it's a little tight." Or even, "we're a little cramped." Or, "this is a great way to downsize." I mean, "I have no f*cking space. And no f*cking place to put anything I need to keep/use, much less anything I might want to keep/use." He said that perhaps this experience is a great way for me to push back against my AR tendencies, to relax more.
Right.
When I was in college, I lived, at two different times, with two complete slobs. Those experiences pushed me from being a quirky neatfreak to full-blown obsessive compulsive about things being in their place. Don't blame me, blame them.
What I have learned in the last week+ of living here is that being in such tight quarters makes me want to scream if even one thing is slightly out of place. Which, if you've ever moved, means that in my world right now everything is way out of place.
So I run around and keep cramming things into places they don't really fit, in a vain attempt to get us to some semblance of organization. It works, for awhile. Until my family comes home.
And then today, on the phone with M, I lost my shit entirely. Full-blown melt-down. Since we have moved in here, I have lost numerous possessions, including one of the cats (almost). We have burnt dinner and melted a pot on a stove that has two settings: off and nuclear fusion. (Ironically, on this same stove the oven doesn't work at all.) I have sliced a finger open, and continue to bang various parts of my body into walls and furniture. When we melted the pot we damn near burned the entire place down. We've had to plunger both the bath drain and the kitchen sink, and we installed a low-flow shower head from the old house so that more than one person can have hot water for their shower in the morning.
In venting to a friend this morning, I said, "I feel like I'm as cranky as the woman who lived here before me." And we realized that there might be some serious negative energy going on in this space. She googled house cleansing and told me I need sage and to do something called smudging.
Well, I don't have sage, nor do I have anything smudge-worthy, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I have two eucalyptus candles burning and Nelly blaring. We call it an "Urban Cleansing." A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
posted by Amy at 4:03 PM
1 Comments:
Shwew. Sounds *awful*. But you WILL get through this. Breathe.
And think how awesome that new house is going to be!
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