Too Much

Today – well, technically yesterday, since it’s now past midnight – has been a challenge. I’m tired and wrung out. Working long hours – still and always. Back to work later today and doing more OT because bills. I’m splitting my shifts between two separate jobs, which adds to the stress. Same company, just working on yet another special project in addition to the things I was already doing – for three days a week plus OT. The jobs are related but the duties involved are polar opposites, which is disjointing.

My bills demand OT. My body demands a vacation. With a move looming, which is always murder, I’m hoping to strike some kind of balance. Thankfully G has been stashing back money toward the move. We are absolutely going to hire help this time.

Spent today sleeping in, then starting the clearing-out in preparation for moving. I’m looking forward to more space and other aspects of being in a house, but not the significant jump in expenses. Thankfully part of clearing stuff out involved selling all the stuff we cleared out. In Pyrex bowls alone we have a good chunk of change, and half of it was out the door within an hour of listing it. The husband was overjoyed to have something to sell again. We probably could’ve gotten more money for it but we agreed we simply wanted it gone.

As I’ve mentioned here before, the husband person is a pack rat. Me? Not so much. Other than my computer and a very small handful of items with sentimental value, I can wave goodbye to almost anything I own. In fact, too much stuff gives me panic attacks. Marie Kondo might be my patron saint, but I never watch because I know I’d end up weeping for the clearing I can’t do. I can sort of deal with it when it comes to the the spousal unit’s accumulations, but balance it by periodically taking a slash-and-burn approach to everything I own.

Meanwhile, it’s hard to know how to deal with the ongoing political dumpster fire. Part of me wants to shut down and ignore it because processing it is a nightmare. But I know it won’t change if everyone shuts down and ignores it. On the other hand, what the hell can a fat old lady in a wheelchair do against the Nazis in Washington, anyway?

I end up in a state of mental flailing.

There is one minor miracle to celebrate. I have a cousin in Texas who was an avid Trump-kisser. Appalling as the thought is, I knew she was one of few people with an excuse. She has mental challenges and limited information access. (Plus she lives in Texas. That alone is a huge handicap.) She doesn’t drive, doesn’t have cable TV or even Internet other than what’s on her phone. She’s on SSI, which was the springboard I used to explain to her – carefully – some of the things at stake with the White House encore of Rome under Nero. We walked through loading the Associated Press news app on her phone, vs. getting what I euphemistically call “news” from the Fux network (not a typo, an observation). We talked about how to know what’s happening, you need to track the garbage coming out of Congress. And she acknowledged she tried but didn’t understand what the Congressional page was saying.

A little ways into the conversation, this happened:

Despite her challenges, once she understood what Cheetolini is attempting to do, she zoomed right into the logical response. I was so proud of her! Next thing you know she’ll be agreeing with BLM. She may yet become a bleeding-heart moderate.

I couldn’t deal with much else tonight so I binged a bit on YouTube. There are free movies for those so inclined. I’d watched a couple of mindless options over the past couple of days. An old Rogers & Hammerstein yesterday, and The Celestine Prophecy today. (Strange book, strange movie. But with that one I knew what I’d get so no biggie.)

Then I opened another freebie called, I Am David.

I don’t cry, ever, for anything; but I was bawling like a baby for the last several minutes of the story. It wasn’t even a particularly unexpected ending, but the acting was spot-on and the entire theme hit a little too close to home in 2020 America.