Stressed in that tight, clenched, knotted-at-the-core-of-me way. I'm so raw underneath. This morning, another kitchen cabinet door came off its hinges and I felt like the thing was just fucking with me. I wanted to rip all the poorly-installed doors off their hinges and start again. But when would we ever replace them? My husband and his electric drill have been patching that inherited problem week after week for nine years now. We will have to endure more. The money is tied up elsewhere. Cleared the mail box last night after willfully ignoring it for a week. I didn't know why I was ignoring it until I saw that fat envelope informing us that our tax returns from a long-past year have been selected for "examination." Damn. But can you tell I'm veering away from really delving into what is stressing me? I wrote it all down before and then I inadvertently deleted it. I take it to mean I was oversharing. Or God wants me to just be quiet for a minute.
I'm listening, God.