Pissed

I don’t write here so much. It’s not because I have nothing to say, but rather because I’ve just been overwhelmed by responsibility.

This week I’ve been on vacation. That term means lot of different things to people. To me it used to mean parking by overactive derriere in a beach chair in the sand for a solid week. Now that my derriere is mostly inactive, I find that vacation means pursuing various interests I have in the place that I call a home-away-from-home.

The main thing I like about being here is not having to answer to anyone. It’s been a trying six months, as I have bought a new house, am trying to move out of the old one, and am trying to sell the old one. I used to quip that I didn’t have time to have a job, and now that I do, that truth is playing out in spades. As I try to be everything to everyone and try to downsize by a good 1000 square feet, I find that daily existence is just too hard. Were it not for my tireless mother, who has packed up most of everything I own, I’d be in the looney bin.

We all realize, however, that stressors are both large and small. Hence the phrase, the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’ve an ovewhelming desire to find myself in an ancient cave where there is no Spectrum cable or Verizon cell phone reception. I’d love for those dependent on me to find their own way. Just for a minute (I am *not* referring to my children who are exceptionally independent). Honestly, I’d like some people to think for themselves instead of waiting for me to think for them. I’d like to sleep for nine hours. I’d like not to have pets.

I need a rest. A long rest. Not a week.

Thanks for listening.

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