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I pack very carefully, and methodically.
I unpack furiously. ha ha
I am bruised all over my body. My fingernails look like my blind manicurist just got frustrated and started ripping my nails off with her teeth. My back hurts so bad I make the Hunchback of Notre Dame look like he had good posture and a Colgate smile. My fingers are so swollen they look like Polska Keilbasa, from cleaning the stove/oven, washing walls, ceilings, and cabinets, transplanting the bushes and hibiscus tree, scrubbing the floors, and gathering all the twigs and scrap wood out of the lower yard. I'm not finished yet...*sigh*
The former tenants didn't clean before they left. I don't think they cleaned while they lived here either. They had two dogs, one that lived in the basement (unfinished), and the other that lived in the house. Neither of them were indoor trained, and both had fleas. The former tenants were smokers. Another reminder of how terrible my own house must have smelled to non-smokers! Yikes! And trust me, candles, potpourri, incense, Febreeze, Oust...none of it takes away that underlying and ever present odor of cigarette.
When I get all the walls and ceilings finished, I will shampoo all of the carpets. It will require a special shampoo. Tobacco odor is more than just an odor actually. It is a sticky residue that attaches itself to the fibers. So whatever is used to clean it has to break that down and pull it away.
Wa's friend Roberta is back in the picture. Yeah, I guess it's official...Tommy and Wa are officially split. Like Tommy and Heather, Charlie and Denise, blah blah blah. Scott, the #1 son, is talking seriously about moving to Knoxville to be with LL...in the next two weeks! s'cuse me? Yup, he already had his cell phone number changed to accomodate the new area code, my friends. I do declare, the boy is in love! He don't even have a job lined up yet! My My~
Mike called one night when Scott was "missing" (I found him for everyone and had him call them.) and said that he would bring Lala for a visit that Sunday afternoon. He didn't, and didn't even call to say he had changed his mind. Typical Mike. Wa was mad and maintains that Mike may be somewhat mentally challenged. Poor Mike. [Whatever! *shrug*]
I had a period of panic last night when I realized that I didn't have steel doors, don't really know my neighbors, this house isn't built of stone, steel, and brick...and the rent isn't based on my income. In fact, the rent is equal to my income! The moment became very scary, and repacking became a consideration...but where would I go? Panic attacks become so
d i m e n s i o n a l so quickly, that they are literally overwhelming to me sometimes. Well all the time I guess. They have overwhelmed me every single time.
I'm going to journal the experience as much as I can. There's no way to know what's going to happen this time. I only know what I want to happen. I want Dr. Wiles to biopsy this thing, realize they can drain it (or something) and we can eliminate all that other stuff right then and there. Ouila, over and done with. Kinda like that "EASY" button in the STAPLES commercials on television, yanno?
I'm going to journal the experience as much as I can I suppose. I'm doing both. Online and in a journal. There is a shelf here in the bookcase dedicated to them.
Thought fall is tricky right now. Sometimes I have to back away quickly when thought drifts into the area of "the italian". Information about Meningiomas : http://www.brighamandwomens.org/neurosu
There is a whole lot of stuff I didn't know. Wow. In the January MRI there was nothing. Now there is something. They need to do the biopsy.
I want to tell you about Fry Street...but I am going to make it another entry...you're going to have to change clothes. Think retro, late 60's early 70's maybe...and has anyone seen the digital camera????
I unpack furiously. ha ha
I am bruised all over my body. My fingernails look like my blind manicurist just got frustrated and started ripping my nails off with her teeth. My back hurts so bad I make the Hunchback of Notre Dame look like he had good posture and a Colgate smile. My fingers are so swollen they look like Polska Keilbasa, from cleaning the stove/oven, washing walls, ceilings, and cabinets, transplanting the bushes and hibiscus tree, scrubbing the floors, and gathering all the twigs and scrap wood out of the lower yard. I'm not finished yet...*sigh*
The former tenants didn't clean before they left. I don't think they cleaned while they lived here either. They had two dogs, one that lived in the basement (unfinished), and the other that lived in the house. Neither of them were indoor trained, and both had fleas. The former tenants were smokers. Another reminder of how terrible my own house must have smelled to non-smokers! Yikes! And trust me, candles, potpourri, incense, Febreeze, Oust...none of it takes away that underlying and ever present odor of cigarette.
When I get all the walls and ceilings finished, I will shampoo all of the carpets. It will require a special shampoo. Tobacco odor is more than just an odor actually. It is a sticky residue that attaches itself to the fibers. So whatever is used to clean it has to break that down and pull it away.
Wa's friend Roberta is back in the picture. Yeah, I guess it's official...Tommy and Wa are officially split. Like Tommy and Heather, Charlie and Denise, blah blah blah. Scott, the #1 son, is talking seriously about moving to Knoxville to be with LL...in the next two weeks! s'cuse me? Yup, he already had his cell phone number changed to accomodate the new area code, my friends. I do declare, the boy is in love! He don't even have a job lined up yet! My My~
Mike called one night when Scott was "missing" (I found him for everyone and had him call them.) and said that he would bring Lala for a visit that Sunday afternoon. He didn't, and didn't even call to say he had changed his mind. Typical Mike. Wa was mad and maintains that Mike may be somewhat mentally challenged. Poor Mike. [Whatever! *shrug*]
I had a period of panic last night when I realized that I didn't have steel doors, don't really know my neighbors, this house isn't built of stone, steel, and brick...and the rent isn't based on my income. In fact, the rent is equal to my income! The moment became very scary, and repacking became a consideration...but where would I go? Panic attacks become so
d i m e n s i o n a l so quickly, that they are literally overwhelming to me sometimes. Well all the time I guess. They have overwhelmed me every single time.
I'm going to journal the experience as much as I can. There's no way to know what's going to happen this time. I only know what I want to happen. I want Dr. Wiles to biopsy this thing, realize they can drain it (or something) and we can eliminate all that other stuff right then and there. Ouila, over and done with. Kinda like that "EASY" button in the STAPLES commercials on television, yanno?
I'm going to journal the experience as much as I can I suppose. I'm doing both. Online and in a journal. There is a shelf here in the bookcase dedicated to them.
Thought fall is tricky right now. Sometimes I have to back away quickly when thought drifts into the area of "the italian". Information about Meningiomas : http://www.brighamandwomens.org/neurosu
There is a whole lot of stuff I didn't know. Wow. In the January MRI there was nothing. Now there is something. They need to do the biopsy.
I want to tell you about Fry Street...but I am going to make it another entry...you're going to have to change clothes. Think retro, late 60's early 70's maybe...and has anyone seen the digital camera????
battered, bruised, and stuff