Atlas stomped her feet

I never took heavy words for granted
And I never took the undeserved advantage
No, I never took the easy way
So why don't you take it a little easy on me now?

- Dar Williams, The Easy Way

It's been a long damn week.

Next week isn't looking a whole lot shorter.

Okay, that's not fair. Because the main reasons last week sucked had very little to do with the fullness of my work schedule. But I've spent most of today alternating between worrying about how I'm way past broke (as in, my therapist and I are going to have a conversation Monday about how I may need to drop out of therapy because it's that or my rent, and believe me, this is not the time for me to leave therapy), trying to get the house ready for showing, getting completely overwhelmed and hiding in my bed, doing laundry, pretending to read, thinking about getting back on my bike, and trying not to kick things in sheer frustration.

It's days like this I really wish I drank more.

So my new landlord, who is of course my neighbor, who, if I haven't already said this on here, bought my old landlord's house along with the two rental cottages, kicked Sparrow out of hers, partitioned the land on which it sat onto his property, said he was going to tear it down to build a garage, decided not to tear it down and instead use it as his office (neither Sparrow nor I can figure out exactly what it is that he does, but he clearly makes a shitload of money doing it), and cannot figure out that my automatic bill payer sends him a check in the mail, that landlord, finally put my house and the main house up for sale. Which means my house, which is a DISASTER and looks like I just moved in, needs to be showable, and soon.

Now, it's crossed my mind, I'll admit, that I could leave the place a giant, box-filled mess covered in dog hair tumbleweeds in some passive-aggressive protest against the fact that this is not the arrangement I signed up for, that my rent is too high (I knew that moving in, but, it was worth it for the situation I was moving into), that my lease had better be protected when he sells it, or about thirty-seven other things I could come up with to be pissed about (he hasn't made he repairs on my property the old landlord promised; the dead thing under my house apparently didn't get removed by the handyman, it got dragged out in the middle of the night by something that I frankly don't want to cross paths with in the darkness; he keeps parking in my spaces; etc). But I will concede that I have a vested interest in helping him sell the place, because, frankly, I don't like him, and don't especially want him as my landlord. Plus, I kind of want my house to be finished and feel like I live here for reals.

But that's a really big undertaking, to be quite honest. That's why I've been hiding from it for so long.

You remember how I couldn't even get in to the office when I first moved in?

Okay, in all honesty, I'm rather proud of what Maggie and I were able to undertake today (because she was an integral part, of course). I stacked the boxes of books along the wall where someday (when I can afford secondhand things again) the bookcases I need will go. And I finally got the desk where I want it (although I didn't know I wanted it there until I finally got it moved to where I didn't want it - although I thought I wanted it there when I started - and then went, oh, wait, what about over there...), and I got the TV set up (the cable box doesn't work, but, whatever, I'll call them). And I moved the sofa into the office. Which made it way more cramped in there. Waaaaaaay more cramped. But, oddly, I really like it. And there's still an aisle to the dog door.

Maggie was not quite as pleased with all of the fussing today, though.

She'll get over it. We already had a nice little snugglefest on the sofa, even though we both had to climb over the couch arm to get a seat. Whatever, it's cozy. Once the fussing is finished, and I get it decorated, it'll be a wonderful, comfortable room.

Which will undoubtedly be right before the moment my lease expires and/or Jud sells the house to someone who doesn't want a renter and I get kicked out.

::sigh::

The crazy thing is, though, I'm progressively more grateful for my life with each passing day. Yes, there are certainly many things that I wish were different. And, I'm making progress on a lot of those. And yes, I certainly have my moments of wanting to trade it all in for a rich, adoring husband and a tropical drink. But I can't imagine the horribleness of my life if I'd stayed on the track I was on four years ago. Or fourteen years ago, for that matter. I love my job. I need a break (I have two days of vacation coming up for my birthday. Okay, I probably need a longer break than that, but...), but I love my job. I have good friends. I have lots of people I consider family. I have a unique perspective on a lot of issues because of what I've experienced.

One of my patients gave me the best quote the other day, though, in that regard - he says to me, "just because I can explain it, doesn't mean I can handle it."

I like that. It's over my desk at work right now on a post-it note. Along with another patient quote: "Every day I spent in Hell, I chose to be there."

That one gives me a lot of perspective.

Nonetheless.

At least I have clean sheets. And a new comforter (clearance! Under $20! Flannel!), which I bought at Target this morning as part of the renovation effort. I know, I know, I'm broke, but dude, under $20. And as much as I love the one I currently am hiding under, I've had it since college, and it's been sewn back together way too many times at this point to be presentable. I also have to find a sheet to put over the armchair Maggie sleeps in (the one I want is in a bag somewhere around here). Because I'd really like this place to look appealing - for both me and any prospective buyers. I'd also like to look like a good, clean, responsible tenant, so they'll keep me and I won't have to friggin' move again.

Crap, I bet this means I have to start making my bed in the mornings...

Alright. Maggie and I are going to get some dinner. All the moving stuff and the fact that this place looks much like the day I moved in (not to mention the fact that I never really got to the grocery this week) has left me with a Bojangles craving. I'm sure Mags will be happy to help me with that....