Forlorn

That's me.  Fortunately, I don't have time to dwell on it.  I'm jumping into contractor mode.  I'm meeting the electrician, locksmith, floor installer, countertop man, and interior designer at my rental house two hours from now.  Long story about the interior designer, but suffice it to say that he's just going to tell the electrician where to install the recessed lighting.  One box of lighting fixtures from Amazon arrived yesterday, and the others should be here today.  I have exactly 10 days to get all this done.

Besides the jobs I'm hiring out, I'm going to tackle waxing and buffing the hardwood floors throughout the house, installing the new cabinet hardware, planting the flowerboxes and clearing out the former flowerbeds which have morphed into jungles.  I have to empty the attic, but first, repair the pull down stairs.  Remove an antique bed which remains.  Wash the windows, inside and out, and give the house a thorough cleaning.  By then, it'll be time to mow again.  And since Kiddo and I are on the outs, I don't plan to ask him for one iota of help.  It's not worth the conflict.

I might write about that sitch later, if I can, but for now, it's just too painful.  Being a mom can be excruciatingly difficult, and I'm just so exhausted.  And he's only been home from college for 9 days.  I feel like an utter failure.  Once I get through these next two weeks, I'll try to find a remedy, but for now, we both need some time to think.  So he's at his dad's for now.

On top of all this, Lucy has turned into a neurotic mess.  I think I'm going to have to take her to the vet.  I think she's picked up on all the stress and angst her mama (that'd be me) is experiencing.  Poor dog.

Better run.  Time's a-wastin'.