I hate waiting for things. I make decisions quickly, most of the time, and read quickly, and I get very impatient with people who have to plod through things slowly and carefully. If the entire world operated at Melissa-speed, I’d be very happy.
So, the house as been on the market all of 12 days, and no offer yet. And I’m anxious, because I’m enough my mother’s daughter that, like her, I want everything done NOW. Or at least, everything affecting me.
Someone brought clients over last night. Someone is showing it now. My house is unnaturally clean, and my dogs are pissed because they’ve been tossed into the back yard all day every day this week, and generally, they’re only barred from the house when they’ve been bad.
They think they’re being punished, and their little brains can’t understand that they’re NOT.
They’re stressed, too, because there are BOXES, and we’ve cleaned everything so all the SMELLS are gone. Not that the house stinks, but, you know, normal dog-smells that they’re used to are replaced by soap and bleach scents.
I haven’t managed restful sleep in almost a week.
I am crabby and tired, and even more impatient than usual. And I recognize it, but that’s not helping.
It’s sort of like PMS, except chocolate doesn’t help.
Anxious by Melissa Bartell is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.