Grump Central Archive: Week of 9 February 2020

Saturday, 15 February 2020

My friend had to cancel our lunch, as his son had taken ill; we've rescheduled for next week. Meanwhile, the refrigerator arrived around 8:45 AM, and the delivery men had it unpacked, installed and running all of eight minutes later (installation wasn't included, but installing a refrigerator involves plugging it in and rolling it into place—big deal!). I spent far more time removing all of the packing materials from inside. Then I transferred and organized all of the stuff from the old mini-fridge. By 10:00, I was ready to go grocery shopping. $130 of groceries later, I still barely put a dent in it.

Then, a couple of weeks after quitting my news junkie habit, I made a quick stroll through the headlines, and within 30 seconds I was shaking and looking for the "close window" button (this is the one that pushed me over the edge). Things are so out of control in the world that there's no point in trying to keep up, let alone make sense of it, and since there's nothing us little guys can do about 99.999% of it, why risk a fatal spike in blood pressure just to remain "informed?" I built my home as a sanctuary for good reason!


Friday, 14 February 2020

It's refrigerator day today! After multiple delays, I'll finally be able to start storing food properly, which will allow me to eat more healthily. It's also a good friend's birthday today, and to celebrate I'm preparing him a home-cooked meal for lunch. Since I've no idea when exactly the refrigerator will arrive, it could turn out to be a crazy busy day, especially if it shows up while I'm cooking. But my friend can also help install the fridge, so in the end the timing is good, and it should all make for an excellent distraction from the crap I've been dealing with lately.

Speaking of, I was flipping through my posts from this time last year, and was startled to see that, while the house may have changed significantly since then, my mental state hasn't. A year ago today I wrote, "I'm reaching a point where I'm not sure how to proceed—or, perhaps more accurately, if I should proceed. Maybe I should just sell the property and find a cheap little bungalow, or maybe a trailer. A growing part of me thinks I was never supposed to have this gift, or that I don't deserve it. If I did, why then is everything about it such a protracted, painful struggle?" I might have written that today.


Thursday, 13 February 2020

More frustration: I'd completely forgotten that I had the septic system builder's personal cell phone number, so when I found it, I took matters into my own hands and called him. We spoke very briefly—I certainly didn't need to explain why I was calling—and he assured me the matter would be resolved "right away," whatever that means. But it turns out it was just lip service to shut me up: when I contacted the engineer later, he said there'd been no progress on his end. I asked the engineer if I should start looking for a lawyer; he answered, "Not just yet."


Wednesday, 12 February 2020

So now it's back to radio silence for the septic system builder. It's starting to piss off the engineer—and I know what that's like all to well. I've been seeing red over this for weeks, and now I'm getting a very uneasy feeling that things are just going to get worse, until something very bad happens. The system may need to be rebuilt. Or the Township could come down on my neck. Or both... But the worst part of it is there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. That helplessness just adds another layer of stress.


Tuesday, 11 February 2020

I've decorated my kitchen island with a number of pseudo-antique tin signs. So, 'splain to me why my little girl likes to try and bite them! Every so often she'll sit for a few minutes at a time attempting to gnaw on one, although she causes no damage. If nothing else, it's quite amusing.


Monday, 10 February 2020

When things ended very badly with a former significant other back in 2014, I escaped to my property, and forbade her to ever contact me again. She agreed. But then, on Saturday she broke that promise, sending me into a tailspin—on top of everything else I've been dealing with lately, just as I was beginning to make a tiny bit of improvement. I didn't ask for this, so what did I do wrong to deserve it?


Sunday, 9 February 2020

It's been a week since my last daily post. I took some time off to try and deal with one of the worst major depressive episodes I've had to endure in many a year; plus, owing to some non-trivial health issues, things likely won't be improving anytime soon. But I thought that returning to a more "normal" routine might help me keep my head above water (and also help keep friends less worried). Zack appears to be improving, so that's one less concern, but nothing has happened with the septic system inspection debacle—in fact, it's taken a rather unsettling turn lately, so that's still hanging over my head. Seems there's always something going on to maintain unhealthy stress levels. I'm so thankful for my kitties—otherwise, I'd have no reason to bother getting out of bed. Top to bottom: Pris, Roy and Zack.

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