Luckily, I need to be busy this weekend because that is one thing that keeps my neurotic mind from spinning out of control when I'm stressed. I've already been fairly busy today so even though it's only 2pm I am taking a coffee break.
Last night we sat down with our real estate agent and made an offer (our third one this year!) on another house in Woodinville. The difference is with this house is that it is not a short sale so we will hear by the end of the day if the seller's will accept our offer. And if they do then done deal. We are buying the house whether we panic or not! If they accept our offer as contingent (like we'd like) that means we need to put our house on the market within 10 days. So, this weekend is going to be the crazy mad rush to get it ready to be shown. That means number one thing: storage space! I need to find a good one in our neighborhood big enough to put half our shit ... I mean half of our treasured items. We're also going to need to make one big hefty dump run and my third Goodwill run in three weeks.
For someone who has such aspirations to live a simpler life we sure do have a lot of stuff. Most of it is memorabilia that I'm not totally sure we need but at the same time reminds me of important things in my life of which there have been many in the last four decades. For example, I still have a target with bullet holes in it from the very first time I ever shot a gun in 2001 - a 40 caliber Smith & Wesson semi-automatic. Do I really need to keep that? Probably not, but I want to. Do I really need to keep a box of my favorite of my daughter's baby clothes and toys and books? Probably not, but once again I want to. At least it's in a box. I think if we put everything in boxes it will not look as disturbing as the piles currently look to me. My husband has similiar stuff but in his case it's more tickets to rock concerts and posters from college all rolled up and stored away. I bet when our daughter's a teenager that stuff will be retro and cool though. The target with bullet holes will probably just be creepy.
On top of that I woke up at 7:20am (which is good because I had to get up ten minutes after that) to screaming and my poor daughter was throwing up into the waste basket next to her bed. Since I was about ten years old I've had a phobia of throwing up. It's gotten better and I can be with her and comfort her when she pukes and clean it up and really not show any sign of external discomfort. But inside I feel like the whole world is falling apart and coming to an end. I used to be embarrassed and think I was a freak for my phobia but I'm learning as I get older it's not that uncommon. That and it's no more freaky or something to be ashamed of than say a phobia of needles, which many of my friends have. So, now my anxiety scenario is that my husband and I will both come down with it at the same time this weekend and not be able to care for our daughter and not be able to get the house ready to put on the market and so then it won't sell and then we'll be massively in debt with two mortgages and we'll have screwed up our entire lives to the point where we end up living in shelters and never getting back on our feet and destroying my daughter's life ... yes, I know. I should write books instead of freaking myself out.
The reality is, even if we do get sick, it appears to not be a very bad virus. My husband never gets very sick and can power through just about anything. If we can't care for our daughter for a day or two we have plenty of friends who will help. And the house will sell. It will be ok. Geez. Needless to say, reality is much nicer than my head.
So, even though this is good change, it is big change and it makes me feel discombobulated. I'm excited though to finally be leaving the city and I'm excited to be right down the street from where I keep my horse and out in a beautiful part of our region. But that doesn't mean I won't miss our neighbors or our house we lived in for ten years. I still remember how excited I was when we moved in to have our very own house and our very own yard to do whatever we wanted. It will be hard to say good-bye to this place that we worked so hard on to make it so nice. And we really did luck out and end up in a wonderful neighborhood. I hope that our new neighborhood will be as nice. But as I'm writing this I know it is also my attitude. If I wanted to focus on the bad stuff in our neighborhood I could say it's an awful neighborhood. So, the next one will be different but the same dynamic - good and bad. And if I focus on the good of it, it will seem like a great place. Unless of course a serial killer lives next door. Ok, I will stop.
And my last stressful thing of the day - I took the pitbull into the vet this morning because she's been having hives and these itchy bumps that she scratches and then they get bigger and scab over (a lot like chicken pox). And one of the lumps behind her ear is really swollen. So that big lump behind her ear is infected and the infection has spread inside her ear so I've got to start her on antibiotics and a topical steroid. Then if that doesn't resolve the issue - especially the lump behind her ear - within 7 days they will have to remove the lump because it could be a mast cell tumor, which is very aggressive and can spread quickly and that's a really horrible place for it to be. I'm really hoping that is not the case! It's been exactly two years since my dog, Boone, died (or will be on Dec. 23rd) and I am not at all ready for Willow to die, especially because she is only four years old. But I'm going to hope for the best!