Now that I seem to have my virtual life back under control, my real life is a mess. Well, just my house. My life is fine. No real problems. I keep reminding myself. I think it was just last week ( after reading a headline that indicated that stress causes weight gain*) I vowed to not become stressed out about anything anymore. After all, most problems do become resolved, in a good way, most of the time. Worrying and losing sleep never helps.
I decided that it was just fine that my guy needs to have a work related party - a big work related party at our house on Friday. And he suddenly sees our home sweet home's many little flaws. Like a water spot in the living room, and some unpainted trim. No problem! But while we have a painter in the house, and the ladders out, I am suddenly quite tired of the bright yellow kitchen. The painter swears she can get it done - it won't take long! And since we are moving furniture, let's just "flip" the room. Couch over there now, and TV here. So far so good. So far, still floating along stress free. Then, my guy decides it is time to refinish the wood floors. So, all the spare bedroom furniture, kitchen furniture, closet stuff, and TV nook furniture have been moved to the living room. The floor guys start sanding Friday afternoon. One week before big party. They get one fourth sanded. Saturday morning, my guy decides to go for a bike ride, leaving me to wait for the floor guys. And wait, and wait. They show up late morning to a woman who is losing her resolve about not stressing out. After sharing my feelings, I leave for work. Luckily I can walk the mile in,( biker boy had to take my car (?) so he could drive his bike to his friend's house!) but this morning I had my dog with me, along with a couple of bags of things. My dog is no picnic to walk. He is all over the place, tugging in multiple directions, and blind as a bat - so he has to be steered. Biker boy's phone calls me - but it is just static. So I tell him I can't hear him. He calls again. Still static. I emphasize that I can't hear him, and hang up again. His phone calls my phone 12 times on the one mile walk to work, juggling a blind dog, and two bags. My responses become increasingly pointed. My resolve totally blown. One block from work there is actually a voice on the other end. He wants to know "what's up?" and doesn't quite understand why I am madder than a wet hen. It turns out he didn't know he was calling me- the phone was in his back pocket, and his butt was calling me over and over again.
So, today is Monday. My living room is still full of furniture ( and I've decided the yellow couch needs to be blue), they are still sanding. So what should I do?
I've decided to repaint the gallery portion of the shop.
* I never read articles anymore - just headlines