I am exhausted.
Renovating exhausted.
The house is a mess.
A bomb.
Please don't pop in for an unexpected visit.
I don't have any clean clothes.
They are all dirty.
Or don't fit.
So I may be in my holey trackies.
Or like today my jimmies.
It's too cold and wet to wash.
My inside line is full.
The clothes have been hanging for half a week, refusing to dry.
REFUSING.
ALL I ASK FOR IS MY COMFY UNDIES TO DRY.
Is that too much to ask?
The back yard looks like someone has been digging for lost treasure.
As soon as we make some progress, something else has to go wrong.
Like the bloody drainage.
I curse owning my own home.
I curse owning my own home for the past 6 years.
Damn It!
I am over renovating.
I think I said that already...
Maybe it's the pregnancy hormones talking.
Or maybe it's because I am inhabiting less than half the house.
A space smaller than our first house.
Which was T.I.N.Y
tiny
My child is sleeping on a mattress on the floor in a living area also used for storage.
Because 3 out of the 4 bedrooms are being demolished, plastered, or painted.
Oh Lord we are hosting a huge party in less than 9 weeks.
Get me a paper bag while I hyperventilate.
Breath. Breath. Breath. Breath.
I have bitten off more than I can chew.
I am getting closer and closer to the end of this pregnancy.
And I am feeling heavy.
Heavy as in I struggle to walk up stairs because someone is hitching a ride reverse piggy back style.
I am scared that my nesting instincts are about to kick in.
Or maybe they have?
That's the part where I go crazy.
Like crazy to live with because I can't handle the mess.
The dust.
The crap everywhere.
Oh Lord, crazy just like this post!