Wiped out
It's nearly two in the afternoon and I've accomplished nothing. All day it's been about dealing with other people's drama.
It all started last night when my soon to be ex-father-in-law called all up in arms because my mother-in-law, Adam's mom, wouldn't answer her phone. He'd gotten a phone call from a neighbor that my mother-in-law was setting stuff on fire and he was pissed because he was afraid it was his stuff. (They're going through a particularly nasty break-up and she kicked him out a few months ago.) After riling Adam up at ten at night, who, in turn woke me up, we finally get in touch with his mom and learn it was a kitchen fire that got out of hand. This is inconvenient because she is moving out next week and is planning on selling the house. There will certainly be a delay on selling the house until the kitchen is repaired, but the move is still on.
Cue the drama this morning when I call to check up on her and the house and am bombarded with her understandably vicious tirade about her spouse and his complete lack of caring about her well-being. Or the dogs. We chatted for an hour, with her requesting that Adam and his brothers handle the moving van because she has enough on her plate.
Which makes total sense.
So I call Adam and ask him to call his brothers and, foolishly, expected my part to be over.
Ha.
The brothers are no help. (Surprise!) And I ended up having to reserve a truck for her and now we'll be scrounging around to figure out how to move all that stuff with just Adam. His mom has bad knees and can't make the several trips up and down the stairs to load the truck.
I want to strangle someone. The boys knew that this was coming up and, when they were asked last week, said they would be available to help.
Ugh, ugh, ugh.
I want to crawl into bed and forget this week.
Meanwhile, my car was supposed to be ready today, but there's been no word from the insurance company and I've no idea when I'll actually have wheels again.
Maybe I should meditate. With vodka.
It all started last night when my soon to be ex-father-in-law called all up in arms because my mother-in-law, Adam's mom, wouldn't answer her phone. He'd gotten a phone call from a neighbor that my mother-in-law was setting stuff on fire and he was pissed because he was afraid it was his stuff. (They're going through a particularly nasty break-up and she kicked him out a few months ago.) After riling Adam up at ten at night, who, in turn woke me up, we finally get in touch with his mom and learn it was a kitchen fire that got out of hand. This is inconvenient because she is moving out next week and is planning on selling the house. There will certainly be a delay on selling the house until the kitchen is repaired, but the move is still on.
Cue the drama this morning when I call to check up on her and the house and am bombarded with her understandably vicious tirade about her spouse and his complete lack of caring about her well-being. Or the dogs. We chatted for an hour, with her requesting that Adam and his brothers handle the moving van because she has enough on her plate.
Which makes total sense.
So I call Adam and ask him to call his brothers and, foolishly, expected my part to be over.
Ha.
The brothers are no help. (Surprise!) And I ended up having to reserve a truck for her and now we'll be scrounging around to figure out how to move all that stuff with just Adam. His mom has bad knees and can't make the several trips up and down the stairs to load the truck.
I want to strangle someone. The boys knew that this was coming up and, when they were asked last week, said they would be available to help.
Ugh, ugh, ugh.
I want to crawl into bed and forget this week.
Meanwhile, my car was supposed to be ready today, but there's been no word from the insurance company and I've no idea when I'll actually have wheels again.
Maybe I should meditate. With vodka.
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