I've been feeling grumpy of late. Been here in the north country a little over a month. It's an interesting task, being chauffeur, cook and bottle washer for someone else. There is much benefit to the situation, but the transition has been hard. I've been through a series of stress-related skin illnesses, one after the other, each one lasting about 2 days, except for the big rash on my leg remnants of which still remain. Maybe it's a healing crisis in homeopathic terms.
Today I should take the 2 gallon container of muriatic acid which I found in the garage to the toxic dump site. After today it will be closed until Spring. But I feel resentful. I did not buy it, Dad did. The garage and everything here will be my brother's some day. Let him deal with this acid which I'd rather not transport 20 miles in my car. I've already made one trip to the toxic place with half-filled cans of spray paint, raid and other yucky stuff. Haven't I done my share of clean-up? After all, the acid has been in there for 10 years or more, what's another 6 months? Plus it's raining. And I want to do something fun like go to the big book sale in a nearby town. Although the bottom of the container is weeping acid, I have placed it in a larger plastic container. These are just the thoughts that rattle thru my brain.
Plus I opened my big mouth and told my ex-husband and son I'd take a load of their stuff in my car to the new place their moving to. Last time I visited them they were talking in terms of me helping my son lift and carry awkward furniture, furniture I would call heavy, but they say isn't heavy. "I can't see myself being the other person on the other side of this table," I said. I indicated a pile of pictures and said, more like this I can carry. The problem is to stick by my guns. The idea was to be supportive, not to be their 30 year old muscle-person. Can't they find their own help to move? I thought I was being generous loaning them over $600 so they could pay first and security. Loan is a euphemism as most likely I'll never see the money again. But you never know.
So that's kinda why I'm grumpy. No one to blame but myself and my own thought patterns and my "rescue" complex. Well, I'm done complaining. Not looking for sympathy but new readers to my blog should know I occasionally post a post like this. I see it as sharing another facet of the many facets of self.