Monday, April 1, 2013


I was raised mostly by me grandparents....mostly my grandmother...who grow up during the Great Depression and as such never threw anything away. If it could be re-used she was re-using it. She had plastic bowls that were so old you couldn't tell what they originally contained!

 As such I had developed half of her hoarding tendencies. The only difference is, until lately, I moved so much I made sure that I routinely cleaned my things out so that if I had to pack up and move it would fit in as little a space as possible. But, it's getting out of hand.

We have a one bedroom apartment, and between our stuff, it is never clean. Not unless we spend all day cleaning it. And it is starting to affect me, on many levels.

I lost interest in things I use to love, like, movie nights, and pop corn and sex. Who wants to have sex when you are so stressed out all you want to do is sleep and you can't even force yourself to fake it?

Especially when you are having dreams about getting lost off of 35 in Oklahoma at a Chuck E. Cheese with a toddler named James, and all you have are girls.

It has gotten to the point where something needs to give, I have talked about hiring someone to come in and clean, but, that doesn't seem to be a viable option in our relationship.

However, I am too busy and when I am not busy frankly I am too tired, and Dallas doesn't have the motivation to do it when he's home all day.

I am so frustrated....

I need a Dr. Pepper.


Yeah I went there...