Unfinished Business

I just went back and reread my last few posts.  It’s a good thing to do, now and then, especially when you suffer from MAMS (Middle-Aged Mom Syndrome), because it can remind you of what you have already realized and then promptly forgotten.

At any rate, mystery solved as to the sudden sadness that hit me yesterday:  I have unfinished business.  I said in Probably Long Enough that I should deal with the Giant Disappointment I’ve been carrying around with me for years, and since then I’ve been too busy to deal with it. I have managed to distract myself for weeks, putting off the inevitable payment due.

But holy cow, I didn’t realize that when it hit me, it was going to hit me THIS hard.  I remember now WHY I’ve been carrying this giant around instead of dealing with it. It’s overwhelmingly, mind-numbingly painful.

It’s not that I don’t want to deal with it.  I’ve dealt with worse stuff than this in the past, come to think of it. It’s that it hurts so much when I crack the lid of this particular can of worms, my brain shuts down and the only course of action I can think of is to jump in the car and never look back.

Which is particularly difficult when your personal car happens to be the family van.  And happens to still be hooked up to a trailer due to post-camping cleanup chores.

In a bid to not melt down into a snarling, puddling mess in a corner, I have taken refuge in a study nook I designed behind some bookcases last year when my oldest daughter was ready to do bodily injury to the next person who interrupted her studies for her anatomy class.  I have bills and spreadsheets open all around me – enough to scare anyone away should they decide I look like someone who wants to chat.

And I’m thinking. This is all I’ve come up with so far.

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Me and my Giant Disappointment.  No, I don’t actually have a beard. This is why I leave the art to the rest of the family most of the time. Whatever.

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