I’m so sick of househunting.
Yesterday was probably the worst day we’ve had since moving out here. I get so frustrated with my husband, I tell him that I hate a certain house over & over, but he keeps going on about how much he loves it. So finally I just tell him fine go make an offer on it then. And he does! Twice now this has happened (he tells the realtor to forget it later, after throwing me under the bus & blaming the “misunderstanding” on me every time. Which it’s true, it is my fault… But maybe don’t ask me important questions after I’ve been running nonstop for 10+ hours, & I’m so stressed out & exhausted that I can barely stand up, let alone think, and still have to come home and deal with all the pets and housework & putting the boy to bed or doing whatever else needs to be done for the night. And what gets me, is that he does all of this literally right after a huge discussion about how my biggest worry/issue is that every single person (in our family of 3) at least likes the house. OK, I get that not all three of us are going to be in love with any one place, most likely. But I think that every single one of us should at least like it well enough to spend however many years were going to spend there. So when I have told him multiple times that either I or Jonathan do not like a house, and sarcastically say “fine go make a fucking offer on it”…and then he goes and makes offers on them.... I don’t understand why he so confused when I’m really pissed off and then blow up at him later.
We only moved to Austin because the cost of living in California was so high. Then, we get here to discover that houses are cheaper, but just about everything else? WAY more expensive. Car insurance, medical insurance, tv/internet....We should’ve just stayed home. But it’s too late now, so we’re all trying to make the best of it. Somehow.
Maybe it would help if I ever found friends that I actually had time to spend with me. The one woman that I’ve met that I really like, is super busy 99% of the time, and I’m lucky if I get to talk to her five minutes here and there. And that’s if I just happened to see your come out of her apartment, since she lives across from ours, so then I feel like a stalker.
So then, we get home at 7 PM, after I’ve been running nonstop since 9 AM and haven’t even have a chance to sit down other than in the car, but even in the car I was running two different iPads trying to find the next house(s) to see and where it was that & then what we want to do after that one & yada yada. And we find a new best. He was all disoriented, looked like he had lost his vision completely, was sniffing around like he had made a mess (Turned out he had, in 2 different places)… so I yelled at Jonathan to grab the honey and we try to get that rubbed into his gums… No easy feat when the cat doesn’t want to open his mouth up at all. I’m running around trying to get the can of cat food opened and get him to where he can eat some food, and trying to clean up the big puddle of pee that had seeped all the way through the beanbag chair that he lays in all day… then Jonathan found he had had an accident & pooped on the floor of his room. So I had to get that all cleaned up… Meanwhile trying to make sure that Anubis was coming out of his low blood sugar thing. This entire time, Ron just sits in his chair doesn’t even look up our offer to help when I am making sure to say I need help loudly enough that he can’t miss it. Guess I’ll get no help from him, ever.
It was just a really crappy day.
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