Under Pressure

When we bought our first house we moved the week after Christmas. Actually three days after Christmas. And I was hospitalized with an infection that would cause some renal failure and liver damage two days before Christmas Eve. That move was a blur for me, I couldn't do anything, I just had enough strength to rip through the horrible bank officers that made our lives hell.

Hopefully I will not have any major organ failure in the next week but I am already feeling like hammered shit in preparation for our move. I wake up in the middle of the night crazed with worry about where we will put the cat box in the new house, I am too tired to get enough packing done, I have thrown up every morning for three days and my skin is covered in festering acne.

Don't you envy my husband?

I am just doing what I have to do to get through the week, anxious for it all to be over. The good news is that one way or another next week we will be in our new house and I will not have to do this again for a long time.

The bad news is that it is still a week away.

The greater Seattle area should just cower in fear because the following is just a sample of things that have made me seethe with rage or burst into tears in just the past twelve hours:

1. Missing the train.

2. Throwing up in the parking lot of the train station (rage and tears, both justified I think).

3. My hair.

4. My flat iron still being in the hands of UPS.

5. The dining room table we are going to buy--the measurements tell me it will fit, but my horribly fucking cliched sense of special relations makes me wonder if I will like how it fits. My mother keeps asking. I keep pulling my hair.

6. The mosquito bites on my legs which look like the rash I got after I was stung by bees last month--am I allergic to all formally safe-for-me insects?

7. The Cubs.

8. The Cubs again.

9. The sign outside the Dairy Queen which suggested I CHILLABRATE with an ice cream cake? DQ I delight in your delicious treats, do not make me bomb your store.

10. ESPN Insider--take my fucking password cocksucker--it is VALID.

Clearly I am a woman of steel under pressure.