Angst Angst Angst...

I can tell it is crunch time, all the way around.

We are stressed. Beyond stressed, even. So far beyond simply stressed that an FTL drive couldn't get us back in a reasonable amount of time.

Ashley's response to stress: sleep. Lots. And I'm jealous of the fact that she can sleep until 5 pm, so I don't wake her up. I let her sleep off her stress, so at least one of us can feel less of it.

Stephen and I, on the other hand, seem to be basking in the glow of stress. Time limits and things not going exactly as planned, deadlines that approach far too fast, and things that are tossed up into the air and never exactly seem to come back down; all of them dump their little stress-straws onto our backs and all of a sudden, we both feel slightly camel-ish.

There are so many repercussions of this stress cocktail. Physically, we are both worn out. I find my volume goes up and up, until Stephen stops me, tells me to breathe deeply, then tells me to stop yelling at him. Thank goodness he knows that I am not 'yelling at him', only struggling with volume control. Hormones (gotta love that cortisol) dumped into blood streams and make me feel like I am in eternal PMS, and I am blessed with everything that goes with it. Tears would be so nice, but I have no reason to cry. I wonder if Stephen regrets my female-ness yet. And then there is this wierd red splotch on my eyelid that just won't go away.

It is a total of 8 days until the movers come. The house is a hurricane; I stack things in one place or another only to be unsure about what is stacked where. So much travel: Las Vegas for Wedding Wonderlands, and then a great trip to see Gramy, but the travel wears me out. Kids pick up on stress. Clothes to be packed, birthdays coming up, familial drama, muddles and muck, am I really out of freaking trash bags?

Then 1 week to clean out the entire house. Yard sale (yuck), Salvation Army, scrub-a-dub-dub. Homelessness sleeping on a friends couch. No stability. I'm grateful, I'm grateful, Ohm, Ohm, Ohm.

Not to mention other things. I have a presentation (1/2 my grade) in class tomorrow, Stephen has a big job interview on Wednesday, and so many things to avoid forgetting (Medical records! Dental records! Forward the mail! Last minute doctors appointments! Did I fill that very important prescription yet! FOR CRYING OUT LOUD WHERE ARE THE TRASH BAGS?!?!)

It is 29 days until Stephen arrives. 2 weeks until the other side of Crunch Mountain. And I haven't even received what I need to start the application for the visas.

I just have to hold on... rides are made for their thrill right?
(But I don't like rides... and did I remember my scopalomine patch?)
TOO LATE! HERE WE GO!