don't tell me. It would just be one more thing I would worry about... and I'd be mad at the self inflicted injury from pulling my hair out.
So yep that's me- Little Miss Worry Pants. And of course, my causes of worry are stupid, but can I give them up?? NO. We get to close on our house NEXT WEEK...so yeah I'm worried they will rip our approval away or I won't have all the paperwork correct. Or, I won't have everything packed before the brute squad comes to help us move. (thanks- all our man friends!) I'm afraid to that something will be wrong with the house (My mom and her husband had a few things that the builders "forgot to mention") not the Merry Christmas I'm looking for.
I'm worried about our new ward...getting my baby blessed blah blah blah.
And I'm worried I shouldn't talk to anyone cuz I have a special knack for being rude without thinking on these kinds of weeks... and no one helps a rudey.
See? All dumb. If our house doesn't close- we'll find somewhere else or stay where we are...if the paperwork ain't done...we'll reschedule for two days later... if the brute squad comes, they'll throw stuff in a box for me, and if the builders mess up my house, well they'll just have to fix it.
In reality- this will all be over in like 2 weeks. And it doesn't matter when my son is blessed as long as we can share it with our family and friends.
Why is it that I can know these things but to little comfort? Probly cuz I'm sitting in a house full of boxes and piles and I don't have all the info I need for paperwork. I need to say 'oh well'... but I can't. Who raised me to do that? I love you mom (who by the way NOW can say oh well, so what- 20 years?)
I need to take a long bath...but dr.'s orders are no- I think he's trying to drive me to drink.
I guess I need to keep to the ticked off tuesday schedule and not let it bottle this big...
On a happy note, I love my son...who for some reason can keep me from packing, sleeping, or getting much alone time with my best friend M'Adam, yet I still adore.