Words Putting In

This entry was posted by on Tuesday, 27 November, 2012 at

I am currently in a joyful, “I HATE EVERYONE” mood, so much so that I actually hissed at my husband like a cat last night before swooping upstairs with my computer to hide under the covers and read fanfiction.

The death in the family thing I dont feel up to explaining again, because I’ve told the story so many times by now that it’s completely nonsensical to me and the really short version is: My mother in law died at her home after being in the hospital, released without telling anyone, and we got to clean her blood up off the floor. The last two weeks have been AWESOME!

I am currently depending heavily on xanax in order to sleep at night because between the husband’s current lack of relaxation and my own anxiety issues, I am basically pretending to sleep by some strange sort of glorified dozing which means I sit up and glare at the clock every half an hour.

The kid has gone crazy, which seems par for the course with all the other crazy. He’s handled all the traveling pretty well, although we’ve somehow lost two winter jackets and a sweatshirt, but he must be hitting a growth spurt because he cannot stop eating.

We’ve been staying in hotels with free breakfast whenever we’re trying to deal with the mess that is the MIL’s estate/house/royally-fucked-by-lack-of-will-stuff, and Voldemort eats 2 bowls of cereal, a piece of toast, sausage, orange juice, an apple, and a yogurt, and then an hour later when we are trying to meet with the estate planner or close out bank accounts, he pipes up with, “I’m STARVING.” We had to make an emergency pit stop to buy him more shoes, too, because he suddenly couldn’t walk in his old ones and we realized it’s because his toes were crunched up at the end, so now my five year old child is wearing Big Kid Twos and eating us out of house and home and we’re going to have to take out a second mortgage feeding him when he’s a teenager and wearing shoe size 72 and standing 18 feet tall. Otherwise, he’s handling the death of his grandmother fairly well, especially because we’ve let him keep all of the change we’re finding out the house, and he cackles as he feeds into into his little bank that counts it and I’m going to have to steal it because $50 in change would be very helpful right now.

Brandus is alternately dealing and shutting down – angry and then depressed – hopeful and anxious. So he’s either yelling at us or sleeping or having low level anxiety attacks about everything that could and can and will go wrong.

I wish there was a font specifically for sarcasm so I could design a cheery tshirt that says, “IT’S AWESOME!!” in giant glittery sarcasm font, because I really don’t think I can express myself in any other way.

There are way too few commas or sentences or something in this post, so I’m going to go glare at the broken caffeine machine and tell it how much I hate it for it’s denial of my Dr Pepper.