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So, I'm moving to the ranch this week and will be living there until my job deal is worked out or that's the official reason. It's true but there's also a subtext about Mom being Ted Kennedy's age and alone and there's no one else in the family that can deal with this next part. I'm not sure how much of that is objectively true but think it's more than 60%.
The funny part (to me, anyway) is that because I'm depressed, it's sort of hard to get very anxious about packing up my stuff. The easiest thing would be to put the cats in carriers, Kid on her leash, grab the laptop and my field easel and go -- because even though I like my furniture and books and dishes and cr@p, I can't care about them very much. It's just sort of exhausting and you can always get more cr@p somewhere if you need it.
The other funny part, in a dark way, is thinking back about how carefully I put together all the stuff in every room in the first place, from the prints on the walls to every single piece of furniture that I built for its space to the placement of the appliances let alone outlets, and even the colors that were chosen to bring the most light into this little tiny condo in a foggy city, that I now don't feel a thing about and would gladly just leave here if someone else didn't have to clean it up after me.
What a difference a depression makes. lol
There's a way in which I like traveling "light" and have noticed that as I get older, it gets easier and easier to do that. But, I realize that my strong desire to just walk away from all this STUFF is depression, not enlightenment at all. It's avoidance.
In a way, it will be nice to be at the ranch because my constant worry about Mom will be tempered if not neutralized. I can't make her 25 again. In another way, I just got rested up from care giving and this feels like just the next in a long series of these deals the the oldest girls in Latino families are expected to manage. Too bad someone else already wrote "Like Water For Chocolate". :)
Thankfully, a couple of nights ago I understood my next writing project while watching Ted Kennedy's wake and can hide in the research and planning of it if I need to in the coming week/s.
The last funny thing is observing my compulsivity about disorder v. the 10 Ft Depression.
"This is a mess!"
"Yeah?"
"You can't be serious. LOOK at that!"
"So?"
:rofl:
:grouphug:
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