Final walk through on the new house tonight and it was miserably depressing. Came home and promptly had another massive panic attack.
What happened was this: we killed ourselves for 2 days cleaning and painting and otherwise spiffing this house up so we could hold an open house before we move next weekend. Very much work, very little sleep. Spent afternoon at the inlaws which wasn't bad, precisely, just a gross inhibition to sleeping, which was mainly what I wanted to do after two straight days of backbreaking work. Went to do the walk through and found that the new house, now empty, looked much shabbier, dirtier and generally unappealing than we remembered. Carpets were stained and walls were gouged and the whole place was vilely dusty and grimy. Without furniture to distract us, the cabinets seemed more worn and dated and it was obvious that the whole interior of the house needs to be painted. After weeks of working on this house, I went to the new house and was confronted by MORE WORK.
Small wonder, I guess, that I lost it for a bit.
That, married to my exhaustion and coupled with PMS, a case of pinkeye and a back that went out on Thursday, have left me feeling very very very low. But let me just whinge on a bit more about my big new house and how awful it is. What a twonk I am.
One tiny bright spot: a group of kids from the neighborhood saw the lights on and came over to meet us and find out if we had any kids. There was a little girl Abby Kate's age and a couple boys Grant's age. They were very friendly and seemed nice.
I am trying hard to remember that this move is not all about me.
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