I just finished breakfast and I am already rifling through Jaden’s leftover Halloween candy to find an acceptable piece of chocolate. Don’t judge me! I’m stressed out. I’m pregnant. I’m hormonal. I’ve been living in a hotel for 5 1/2 weeks. That is enough to send anyone searching for chocolate. And since I can’t have alcohol, let me have the chocolate!
I’m also about ready to pound in the face of the contractor working on our house. We still have no time line as to when we will be able to move back in. The best estimate we’ve gotten so far is that the foundation work will be completed “12/2010.” Gee, thanks. That narrows it down to 31 days. You can bet that if I’m not back in that house before Christmas, there will be hell to pay.
Tim and I are planning to go to Home Depot tonight (for the third time) to pick out flooring and other bathroom accessories. However, we still haven’t gotten the price allotment sheet for the accessories. We asked for it last week. We were promised it yesterday. Still nothing. Apparently, the single brain cell the contractor has left, didn’t grasp the urgency of the nasty email I sent requesting the allotment sheet. I’m not surprised. His single remaining brain cell doesn’t grasp much.
I also left a message today for my insurance adjuster. I need to let him know that this entire process is causing entirely too much stress. It isn’t the time line that has me so frustrated, it is trying to deal with the contractor and all the double-speak and inconsistencies. I am over-stressed and it isn’t good for the baby. I’m not sleeping and I’m short-tempered with Tim and Jaden.
I’m almost always on the verge of either tears, or violent rage. I want to scream, cry, and punch something. And my usual stress-reliever: running–hasn’t been working so well for me the last few weeks. Pregnant running doesn’t release quite the same endorphins. And because of that, I reach for the chocolate. So, please don’t judge me.