They say that a bear is much grumpier and prone to attacks in the spring, after their winter hibernation is finished. I don’t know, and to be honest, I hope to never find out for sure.
I know that I’m about ready to scream after the “hibernation” of winter. I want to stretch out, I want to relax, I don’t want to try to figure out where on earth the bottle of Tabasco sauce is going to fit and where did I put that box of screws again?
I’m sick to death of it all.
I’m tired of trying to share work and leisure space. I’m tired of having a storage unit 10 miles away. I’m tired of nothing fitting. I’m tired of getting rid of stuff, and I still can’t make everything fit. I’m tired of feeling like we’re camping and just never going anywhere new or going home either. This totally SUCKS!
I wanna go home!
Yeah, right, baby. This is home. For now.
I am declaring this experiment a miserable failure. I cannot shoehorn myself into 240 square feet of horribly designed space and be able to function. Something has to give.
I don’t want to step on or climb over GM’s shoes anymore. I can’t figure out where to put size 14 shoes. I can’t figure out where to put my shoes. There’s no where to put clothes, especially this time of year when we’re wearing both winter and summer clothes. I can’t cook a proper meal and I’m tired of dining al fresca too. My pots and pans are not wall art. Nothing works right and there is no end in sight. I’m going insane in 240 square feet and taking GM with me.
My optimism has packed its bags and run away from home. I would like to have a few weeks where we can just do our thing, peacefully and quietly, and instead, we’re faced with no space, no room, or its in the storage unit in a box somewhere.
How can this be all there is? How can we get out of this disastrous mess we’re in? How can we solve our problems?
The questions mount faster than I can type, and there are no quick answers, especially with me in the mood I am in. I’m angry and stressed and resentful and crowded and claustrophobic and aggravated and unhappy and…it’s probably spring fever.
It doesn’t make it any easier to cope, though. I want space, I want roots, I want to find a place that is our own. I guess I’m craving a dose of stability. Something.
So I’ll pour a cup of coffee and join the others around the fire outside…and slap a smile on while I’m plotting a revolution, right?