Lately, I've had the worst time trying to concentrate. It's as though someone is sitting on the remote that controls my thoughts and their butt is sitting squarely on the + button causing the channels to change at a dizzying pace, all the while an elephant sits squarely on my chest making breathing close to an impossibility. I have to remind myself that the elephant will eventually get bored and will move on, but for now nebulizers are the only thing that helps, and they don't last nearly as long as I'd like them to. This junk that Hopper brought home and decided to so generously share with Scooter, Hubster and me is awful. I'm hoping the stupid elephant clears out soon and takes whoever is sitting on the remote with him.
The last few days, I've worked on things that are on my master list that don't take too much energy. I've mended, altered, and added new elastic to a dozen or so of Scooter's skirts. She's thrilled, because she absolutely adores skirts, but I really do need to get it finished up soon, so I can reclaim the kitchen table for meals once again. It's harder to get anything done with the girls home sick, but ...(this sentence was interrupted by the need to clean up the remains of a wall plaque my parents got me that was broken by Scooter in a fit of irritation)...I'm hoping to finish them up tonight when they finally go to bed.
I feel horrible that I made Scooter feel bad about breaking it when I yelled at her. She has this habit of intentionally breaking things when she's not happy. She's done everything from chucking dishes across the room to bending/tearing toys in two, to ripping her necklaces and bracelets that she absolutely loves into pieces when she's angry. It's been very frustrating for all of us. She also has a habit of going over to a hanging plant we have in the living room and pushing it so it swings when she's irritated. And I don't think Scooter broke the plaque on purpose, but I think she figured she'd make it swing like she makes the plant swing back and forth when she's mad. To be fair, she isn't feeling well today, but I really do wish there was a way we could curb this behavior. We've been dealing with it for 20 years now, and although she's gotten better and not doing it all the time, she still can wreak havoc when she's riled. She apparently has her mama's temper from what I understand.
My younger self pleads the fifth at the mere suggestion.
When I talked to Bugster the other day, she said I sounded like a dying frog. I feel like one, too. And the only thing that seems to quell the cough is honey.
So I'm off to feed the frog.
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.