I just want to apologize…

I just want to apologize if I sound a little short and/or stubborn about the house situation. I am finding myself stunningly irrational on the subject. I just want to move into my house. I just want to move into my house, dammit. That is the refrain that keeps playing through my head, every five minutes, it seems, and it is making it very hard to think clearly about the moving situation. (Yes, I am aware that I chose a house that would need a massive renovation. I did this to myself, to us. I know. Love is often irrational.)

Also, we're one week into summer break, and I had expected that I would have six hours or so a day to write, and instead, I'm managing about two. And a little of that is doing some reading instead, (which yes, counts as work, but doesn't feel like it), but a lot of it is that the last month of school was so crazy that I got horribly backlogged on both work and housework. For example, while I have done sufficient laundry to have clean underwear each day, I have not managed to put all my clean clothes away for over a month, which I know, some people couldn't care less about, but is something I find severely irritating. So I'm (slowly) getting caught up on the business of my life, which is just leaving way less time for writing than I expected.

And I also don't have as much time for the children as I'd like. I thought summer would be filled with endless hours of playtime. But no -- when I'm on duty with them, I'm also trying to get through e-mails or attacking the disaster (renewed daily) that is my kitchen, in which nary an inch of clean counterspace can be found most days, etc. or so on. Which means that on average, I spend perhaps 15-30 minutes actually relaxing with my kids -- coloring in a dragon with Kavi, or snuggling and playing peek-a-boo with Anand. I have to say 'no' to Kavi so often, because all she wants to do is play with mommy, and mommy is busy. It makes me very tense.

And the move is looming, and the many many hours of sorting and packing before June 19th. All magnified by the chaotic way the last move went due to the failed closing, which led to a true disaster of epic proportions in our basement that I can't even begin to describe to you. It's going to take three times as long to pack the things down there as it should. Plus, WisCon is at the end of May, and I have art to finish before then, and a Guest of Honor speech to write, and thirty pounds to lose (hah! -- yes, I'm aware of the irony of wanting to lose weight for a feminist convention).

I just feel like I'm doing a bad job at everything right now. Bad writer. Bad mommy. Bad householder. Bad woman. Bad bad bad. I should just crawl into a cave and give up.

[deep breath]

I wept for three or four hours last night, and Kevin told me that it will get better, and it will. I'm getting caught up, and yes, there's a bunch of house renovation work coming up soon too, but our part of that will be mostly done within the month. So one way or another, it will get better.

But anyway -- apologies for losing it. It'll probably happen again, and possibly in public, so sorry in advance.