That Darn River in Egypt
Denial. I’m in it. I know that it is incredibly immature to ignore one’s problems, but there are certain things that, for my own sanity, I pretend don’t exist.
You may have noticed that I haven’t mentioned much about our house recently. We still “own” it, but to me it doesn’t exist. Why? Because if I thought about it and worried about it, I would go completely insane. The house is Brian’s responsibility. Anything that still needs to be done, it’s on him. I have relinquished my title of nag gentle reminder-er. Things still need to be taken to the storage unit? Him. Repairs need to be done? Him. Deciding whether it is even worth it to try to sell now that is worth less than what we owe? Him, again.
Every time I think about the house I want to throw up. I am so much happier in this apartment. It feels more like home now than that house ever did and I convince myself that it was a bad dream. There is no house (whoa).
As a chronic worry-wart, the more things I can be in denial about the better. I have enough nightmare scenarios in my head thanks to all those wonderful medical shows on television. For example, I saw one that was about medical mysteries (perhaps the title of the show) and although I don’t remember all the details, the bottom line was that the baby had eaten a sequin. A sequin. That tiny little thing caused all sorts of problems. And now I am super paranoid that Lorelei will swallow something equally tiny. Don’t get my started on I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant. Wow. Did you know that there is still a chance you could get pregnant after having your tubes tied? You’re welcome
Excuse me, I have to go back to Egypt now.