Mother is in town = 52 Faces is a big ball of stress
Some of you know that I had a pretty traumatic childhood (I'll probably be forced to write one of those difficult-to-read memoirs one day) with a narcissist/borderline mother.
(What part of, "I have a job, don't call me 5 times during 2 hours of work. And if you leave one message I'll get it, you don't have to leave 5" is incomprehensible? I'm not ignoring your calls, I have to do something called TEACH CLASS.)
She whipped in to town this week from China, disrupting me and Jifo's schedule like only this 4-foot-10 tornado can. We're running on half nights of sleep and we haven't done a single errand we badly need to do - Jifo was going to visit some prospective apartments during his lunch breaks/get some legal counsel about those #($!heads called State Farm about my car accident; I've been giving myself headaches wearing broken glasses all week and I would have gone to lenscrafters today except I got into a huge argument with Mommy Dearest and spent my precious extra hour crying and watching the Sing Off.
Even Terry suffers. The dog's only been partially fed (I finally took him to Petco today to get some more food.)
And although I have to get up for a counselor meeting at work tomorrow, I'm browsing pointless websites so I can ward off the screaming, critical voice that's reinstalled in my head.
Tomorrow (well, now to)night we'll be taking her to the airport. Hopefully my blood pressure will go back down and I can have my eyesight back. I can also finally find time to wash my hair. And not to be gross, but even my bathroom schedule is backed up, if you know what I mean. ::watches her blog follower count go down::
Pray for me people. Let us hope that you'll see me on Friday alive and not rocking back and forth too vigorously.
(The only silver lining is that my mother introduced me to Ambien so if I have to, I can at least knock myself out and pretend she's already on the plane.)