Things are moving along ... albeit not fast enough ... but they are moving. The worst part of moving is actually waiting to move. I'm torn. I'm not looking forward to leaving this house, but I'm very anxious for it to be over.
I'm learning, I mean really learning, what stress can do to a body. Holy shit! My neck and shoulders hurt ... really fucking hurt ... to the point of causing headaches almost daily. It hurts just to turn my head! There are times I have trouble breathing. I've been having chest pains. Last night as I lay in bed, the left side of my chest tightened and I wondered if I'd wake up to see today. Part of me just wants to go to sleep and wake up when it's time to move.
I know the summer is going to go by much too fast because of all this and I don't want it to. Even though Monday through Thursday the work days are longer, I love having Fridays off. A day when the rest of the world is working and I can do whatever I need to do.
And then I look at what I've just written ... complaining about moving ... complaining because the summer is too short ... and I think "What the fuck is wrong with you? How dare you complain!" There are people who have real problems. Like where their next meal is coming from, how will they find the money for their prescriptions, where will their kids sleep tonight? Put things in perspective, will you?
There's so much racing through my mind, I can't sort it all out. I feel like there's an avalanche heading my way and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I can pick out a particular stone here and there, work on it and then put it aside. But the whole mess is still there and still coming.
Where the hell is Superman when you need him?