When I have an awkward or complicated or painful problem to solve, I tend to focus on fixing it to the exclusion of everything else, including letting the world at large know that there’s a problem or how dealing with the problem’s progressing. Oh, sure, I enlist professional help, but my natural instinct is to run the hell away from support groups…
…and, okay, even friends I’ve had for decades, but I’m getting better, honest!…
…and the like. I don’t put bumper stickers on my car. I don’t Facebook things (still don’t have an account). I think I’m getting a little better about mentioning if that there’s something going on, but, yeah, those casual remarks I make about, oh, math and blood chemistry and day to day Monsterkeeping? They all follow pretty much the same formula: “I’m going out of my mind with a-z. Here’s q and t.”
These remarks are a little different. The one above was a.
Here’s m. M stands for ‘move’.
We’ve found a house in NOVA. If things go according to plan (we’re talking other entities’ plans, not ones that might be corrupted by the Norton planning curse), we’ll have it mid-late July. We’re actively showing this one, and our realtor’s still of the opinion that it’ll sell this summer — and cites that it’s been her busiest year in a number of years — and not two-three-five years from now, and yes, this was one of my biggest fears in moving to this part of PA; that we’d have to buy in order to have something decent, and that we’d have a hard time selling it when it was time to move.
This, of course, is very much a first world problem. I know people who are much worse off than we are, who might read this and want to yell “shut up, at least you can afford to do this!” and then, yeah, I’d get defensive, the conversation’d get ugly, and hey, I’d have yet more validation of my better-not-to-talk-about-things thing.
So, there’s that.
There’s a bunch of b-l, n-v and x-z, too, but, eh. On the w front, there’s a fair amount of activity on the NDA side of it, while the free-and-clear side’s a bit stalled. I don’t want to tackle the turn-rejected-short story-into-novel-project before the move, because I’m still too close to
setting it on fire in the back yard and running around screaming. I promised myself that once finals were over (aced Business Law and did well enough in Math that I’m okay with moving to the next course in the sequence, go me), the house was completely prepped for sale and the Monster’s summer schedule was roughed out that I’d take some time to just think, and since that’s happened, I probably should figure out how to get some thinking in — ideally, without falling asleep.