The last couple of weeks appear to be catching up with me.
I put off taking care of some very important paperwork that I should have done months ago, in order to dehoard as much of the house as possible as quickly as possible. And partially just because it slipped my mind. I got a reminder about the paperwork being due a week or so before we left for my nephew's wedding, but I thought I'd have time to get it done right after we got home.
I was wrong.
Got news in the mail today that I didn't have the extra time to get it done as I was hoping I had. Unfortunately, it's going to affect our lives quite negatively until I can get all the receipts together and get the paperwork turned in. It's going to be like digging for buried treasure to find everything I need, and it's probably going to take just as long.
The whole situation has raised the stress level around here tenfold. I don't like stress. It makes me cranky. It makes me short with The Hubster. It makes me feel weak and like a great big crybaby when things get overwhelming, and I blubber over the slightest thing.
To top things off and add to the stress, I can feel I'm getting sick. My throat is sore. My lungs are tight. Although I think the lung situation is my asthma deciding to flare up with our return to the higher altitude and exposure to different irritants that exacerbated it while we were gone, I think the throat thing is a whole different story.
Several weeks before Mom left to go home, I had a sore throat that reared up a few weeks after I'd had a cold. It got steadily worse, and I had a rather large white spot on the back of my throat, so I went in for a strep test. It came back negative. I ended up having to go in for several tests, and the antibiotics took forever to do their thing. The final diagnosis was that I had an abscess of the soft tissue in my throat. Apparently part of my tonsil has grown back, and it had become infected.
Four weeks of antibiotics infected.
I'm hoping that gargling warm salt water and getting some extra sleep will keep me off the antibiotics.
I'm feeling too much like Debbie Downer, and I don't like to keep her company.
It always turns into a contest.
Compulsive hoarding is a mental disorder that is just beginning to be understood. As a hoarder, I have acquired things over the years with a specific purpose in mind at the time of the acquisition, used some of those items for their intended purposes, forgotten the goal for different objects, but now that I find that they have outlived their purpose in my life I am struggling to rid myself of those same things.
You can read the start of my journey here.