As most of you may already know, my man and I have been dating for three and a half years. We had a “brief sabbatical” for two months earlier this year but through good communication a key in any relationship we were able to determine our differences were a cumulation of my stubbornness and his temper tantrums. Those days have been exorcised from our lives…..at least for the rest of this year.
For those three and a half years we have lived in the same city for the grand total of thirty five days. Yup, for three and a half years we have lived eight hundred and fifty miles apart. Now for some of you this would be a good distance to keep between you and your loved one. For us, not so much. It puts wear and tear on the car, and wear and tear on our old and decrepit bodies: too much travel.
Yesterday, The Emperor, “King Dork”, turned in his resignation as he found a new job. A new job here in The Armpit of Florida. A job in the same town I live.
Simple mathematics results in the following equation: subtract one emperor from Cow-lubus, add one integration broker to The Armpit, multiply that by a single mom and her teenaged spawn with the sporadic introduction of the multivariable of three older offspring and you get the equivalency of one house full of people at my address.
Enter panic.
I have lived in the same house for almost nineteen years. Fifteen of these years with just the kids. Do you people UNDERSTAND how much SHIT I have accumulated over the past nineteen years?!?!? My house was built in the early fifties. There is no closet or storage space. I have shit stuff, crammed, shoved, and poked into every available crevice and hole. There is absolutely no room for his stuff. HOLY SHIT….I have two weeks to clean out a drawer or two for him to throw his underwear and socks when he MOVES IN WITH US.
IN TWO WEEKS!!!!!
UGH!!!!!!
Needless to say I have been a bit busy purging all of the useless and meaningless crap that I have pilfered, saved, accumulated, or inherited over the last few years.
Few……huh, whatever!
I thought I’d share in my humiliating experience of the twelve-step program called “Packrats Anonymous”.
Step thirteen: RELAX!
For those three and a half years we have lived in the same city for the grand total of thirty five days. Yup, for three and a half years we have lived eight hundred and fifty miles apart. Now for some of you this would be a good distance to keep between you and your loved one. For us, not so much. It puts wear and tear on the car, and wear and tear on our old and decrepit bodies: too much travel.
Yesterday, The Emperor, “King Dork”, turned in his resignation as he found a new job. A new job here in The Armpit of Florida. A job in the same town I live.
Simple mathematics results in the following equation: subtract one emperor from Cow-lubus, add one integration broker to The Armpit, multiply that by a single mom and her teenaged spawn with the sporadic introduction of the multivariable of three older offspring and you get the equivalency of one house full of people at my address.
Enter panic.
I have lived in the same house for almost nineteen years. Fifteen of these years with just the kids. Do you people UNDERSTAND how much SHIT I have accumulated over the past nineteen years?!?!? My house was built in the early fifties. There is no closet or storage space. I have shit stuff, crammed, shoved, and poked into every available crevice and hole. There is absolutely no room for his stuff. HOLY SHIT….I have two weeks to clean out a drawer or two for him to throw his underwear and socks when he MOVES IN WITH US.
IN TWO WEEKS!!!!!
UGH!!!!!!
Needless to say I have been a bit busy purging all of the useless and meaningless crap that I have pilfered, saved, accumulated, or inherited over the last few years.
Few……huh, whatever!
I thought I’d share in my humiliating experience of the twelve-step program called “Packrats Anonymous”.
Step thirteen: RELAX!
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