I'm Going to Whine About Being Tired. You're Welcome.

I'm sure I've mentioned my upcoming vacation. T-minus 6 days, motherfuckers.

The thing about this vacation is that my husband and child are staying home. This is the "say goodbye to my 20s" vacation where I spend the week getting hammered with my friends.

Do you want to hear something pathetic, though? The things I'm looking forward to the most are things like sleeping in and reading books and shitting and showering in solitude. Because I haven't shit or showered in solitude since Caitlyn started walking. I'm looking forward to shaving my legs too, because, if I'm being honest, I shave my legs maybe once every 3 weeks now. I just don't have time to do it more than that, and anyone who knows me realizes that is long enough for me to look like a bear. Summer is coming, you guys, and my legs are unprepared.

I feel so old. A few years ago I would have been seriously looking forward to spending a lot of time really, really drunk. And I am looking forward to that. But, honestly, I'm more looking forward to being able to read more than one page of a book per day.

The point I think I'm trying to make here, is that I am burnt the fuck out. BURNT. OUT. I can usually handle the trials of being a parent, but all the shit that has been recently heaped on top of that has me basically crawling through this week like I'm in a desert and vacation is an oasis. I'm completely and utterly exhausted. Run down.

House hunting is killing me. And it's not just the physical part- not just the running around after work and every weekend, looking at houses that are inevitably NOT the house. It's the mental part too. The part where I feel like we won't ever find a house. The part where I fall desperately in love with a place only to find out there is some bank related issue that will make it nearly impossible for us to buy it. The part where I want to give up and live in my shitty one bedroom apartment forever.

The other thing that's been getting to me is the amount of time and effort it has taken me to coordinate the delivery of the medication I'll be starting after vacation. I swear it's taken no less than a dozen phone calls to get this shit to my house. And it's kind of bullshit to put that much effort into something you are dreading.

Oh. And did I mention that Caitlyn's birthday is in less than a month and I've done literally nothing to prepare for it? Literally nothing. Awesome.

So I dunno. That's it. I guess this vacation could not have been timed more perfectly. Ideally, I'll get home showered, shaved, and well-rested, and my husband will tell me he found us the perfect house.