If I didn’t want to come across as completely crass, then my title for this post would just be a bunch of curse words, all one right after another. I’m frazzled. My dissertation is in full-court press time. We have a big trip coming up and DH keeps telling me “we’ll figure it out when we get there” which offends my planning sensibilities. My house is a mess.
I can’t find some paperwork that I need to finish up all the foster care stuff. I had it in March. I know it’s in this house SOME WHERE. SOME PLACE. So, I’ve been looking at Every Single Piece of Paper in my entire house.
I teach English. My DH is a packrat. I’m also a full-time student. Can you imagine how many pieces of paper are in my house?
It’s driving me crazy, maybe even more crazy than Clomid mixed with PIO mixed with DHEA.