Monday, February 20, 2017


Sometimes it's not smooth sailing.
Sometimes the waves are huge.
Sometimes the waves just slam you on the shore.

It's been quite some time since I've written anything. I've been exhausted; mentally and physically. In the last seven months our home was put on the market, sold, fell out of escrow, sold again, fell out of escrow again and then sold. Really sold. This is a process that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I still haven't recovered and the move was completed over a month ago. 

The process started last June, 2016 when we listed the home. The home sold pretty fast so the packing started. I figured  that I'd pack up some of the things that I didn't use that often. After all, I'd be unpacking in a couple of months. 

Not so fast.

Then we had a buyer who was perfect. He was a contractor and had all sorts of plans for the home. He had his house in escrow and he wanted to close quickly so we went crazy packing up everything only leaving the things we'd absolutely need for a few weeks. After all, we'd be unpacking in a few weeks. We were assured that his buyer was solid.

Or so we thought.

The NIGHT before the buyers documents were to be signed we found out that his loan had been denied. Un-fricking-believable. It took a week to process that bubble being burst. We decided to unpack and put the home back on the market in the spring. I didn't unpack everything. I figured that some of it I really didn't need and it would save time later.


In December that buyer came back. He had sold his home and still wanted ours. The little sticking point? Now we had to RE-PACK the house and find another home that we could close on quickly. Like in a month. At this point I'm ready to fall over but there is no time for that. We found a place that we actually loved and all the dominoes fell perfectly.

What wasn't perfect was me.
But, at least it was over.
January 17, 2017.
It was a LONG 7 months.

I couldn't do one more thing. I've pushed my body to its limit and it was too much. There is something about stress and how it affects your body. When Fibromyalgia is involved, however, all bets are off. You cannot do this without stopping to decompress. 

The problem is that I have very high standards for myself. My personality has really shown through during this move. I've become very pissy and I wanted things done. Did I also mention that I wanted it done yesterday and preferably in alphabetical order? Oh, come on.....who the hell puts moving boxes in alphabetical order? I ordered labels from Amazon and printed out the contents of each box. Try doing that for over 200 boxes.

The other thing I can't do is tell everyone how bad I feel. It becomes a broken record. I'm sure they get tired of hearing it and I really get tired of saying it. There is something to be said about smiling through the pain. Just because I sound fine doesn't mean that I don't spend most of my day in pain and exhaustion. What I have is variable. The symptoms vary from day to day and sometimes from minute to minute. Since the move we can just add second to second. 

I'd like to get out and do things. I'd like to start working out again. There are a lot of things that I'd like to do. I just don't have the inclination or the energy to do them. A lot of times, since the move, getting out and doing things can reduce me to tears before the end of the day. There isn't a place on my body that can be touched that doesn't cause pain. It makes me want to hide away. 

Once the muscle spasms hit it's time to take the medication otherwise sleep will be impossible and, of course, that exacerbates the pain. It's a roller coaster and you wish to God you could get off. It becomes your prayer late in the night. Please let me get off this roller coaster. 


Just when I thought there would be a break in all this the humidity hit with a vengeance. I don't do well when the rain rolls in and an increase in the humidity and barometric pressure causes havoc. So, it's back to feeling like crapola.

I tried going back to work for a couple days a week. I really do miss new home sales. I started with a temp service that staffs sales offices with people that have new home experience for the agents days off or vacation days. I loved it but my body didn't. I used to pride myself on my intelligence. I could look at proformas and spreadsheets and loved to read the fine print. Contracts were my special love. I could rip them apart and put together something to behold. Now it seems like someone smeared oil over my lenses. Everything looks fuzzy. I no longer have the patience or intelligence to read and retain what I've read. I read and re-read. I stare at what I've read and get the deer-in-the-headlight look and frantically search for a remnant of the former woman with the near photographic memory. What is this insidious disease that robs you of your intelligence and leaves a fairly intelligent woman searching for the right words, forgetting where she put her keys, sitting in the car and wondering where I'm going.

I found out that I need to make lists.

There is a reason that that there are lists.

Three most stressful things in life?




I've found that moving may cause the other two on the list.

I never want to do it again.


I said never.........