otherearths_outthere

I am mostly used to Rufio getting me up sometime in the middle of the night, usually around 3:00 a.m. or 4:00 a.m. He does his business and we’re back to sleep again few minutes later. But *sometimes* he wakes me up multiple times during the night. Last night went something like this:

11:30 p.m potty break

11:40 p.m. forgot something (apparently)

1:30 a.m. invisible aliens attacking!

2:45 a.m. invisible aliens attacking!

4:30 a.m. actual alien (cat)

5:55 a.m. Timmy fell down the well (I guess)

6:25 a.m. Bone time! Time to wake up Daddy for cuddles and snacks!
I love this wretched little furball, but honestly 😑

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Current Mood: exhausted
Current Location: Bumblefuck
Current Music: chainsaws

Ranty rants. There are A Lot of things I really, really, really don’t like about where we live. The highlights lately are: having a stink bug fall from the ceiling and land 3 inches from my dinner plate so I could watch it in its death throes. Finding a slug on my sofa a few minutes ago. Lest you think I am a terribly filthy person, someone with no housekeeping skills whatsoever, let me assure you that I am not. My mother was a terrible housekeeper, therefore I am fastidious. To the point of fanatical almost.

I keep telling The Colonel this place is too much for us. Which he acknowledges. But he wants to make so many “improvements” before we even try to sell it. I’m worried about 2 things. 1. He will have *another* heart attack and die leaving me with all this. And 2. How many investments will be necessary until the point of diminishing returns? Really, where is the point where improvements are smart and will we be able to sell this mess for what it’s worth? It’s actually worth quite a lot now, unimproved.

::SIGH::

Current Music: Crackling Fire (which is nice)

I’t took a long, loooonng time to get proper diagnosis for all my mental sh*t, because in part, I think it’s all mostly mild. But combined, the borderline personality disorder, social anxiety, ocd and bipolar can leave not knowing where I’m coming or going occasionally. I so rarely get *really* manic, but when I do it can go one of two ways, self destructive or I clean like a super charged roomba. The last three days I’ve been a cleaning machine, right down to q-tips, and tooth brushes to get every little crack taken care of. I’m not unhappy about this, clean and organized is nice, but we live in a *cabin* on three scrubby acres and it’s the rainy season in Oregon for Pete’s sake. I just wish I could channel this in more creative (read artistic work).

Current Mood: pensive
Current Music: Slightly snoring dog

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Entries tagged with life

Rufio’s night

Meanwhile in Bumblefuck

OCD & Bipolar is fun

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August 2023

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