My child is moving...again. From the apartment that she just moved into. Yes, I know. She's moving into a different place, because of extreme phobias. No one understands, except folks who also have phobias that can turn one's life inside out. We talked about it and I supported her move, but asked for her promise to seek counseling of some kind because this is just too much. So this move, she's totally on her own. She's a grown, mature woman, and this is her life, she has to live it the way she wants. But that doesn't mean we have to live it with her. The move is totally, completely on her. How she accomplishes it is in her court. Mom and Dad are tapped out, financially and mentally.
Staycation is almost over--I have one more day. Except for the mind-boggling news my kid dropped in my lap, it's been so good that I'm kind of considering taking early retirement and just becoming a hermit. Nothing would make me happier than to shut my door on the world outside and just...breathe. I have two more months to think about it. Hmmmm...*ponders* I wonder if I can cut my hours at Red Bulls-eye Satan without getting fired and then live off the riches of my retirement. And my husband, poor man. Hell, he's younger than me, he can deal.
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