Tangled in cords

I updated my other blog. I’m doing all apartment stories, past and present, in it.

Somebody close to me believes I have no patience and expect people to do things when I snap my fingers. Most other people, close to me, think I’m a total jerk for having so much patience.

I should be submitting. I’m not for many reasons including paralysis, and fear, not of being rejected but of life itself. It seems as if it’s an endless to do list that I never come close to completing. The new sub contractor is supposed to be here at noon. “Do you have a point list?” my best friend asked. “Uh, if a point list is what’s to be done than I have it.”

I’m now supposed to add contractor language to my language skills. I live in a world filled with competent achievers who bitch about being disorganized. They have no idea what it’s like to live in an organizational black hole. They have no idea what life looks like when it seems filled with tangled wires I can’t untangle or find a home for.

I can’t seem to find my voice. It’s drowned in a sea of self-recrimination. Problems I thought were long ago solved are rising to the surface.

I’m depressed. For the past month I have been fighting the depression but I can’t any longer. I have been reintroduced to dyspraxia.

It’s really the spatial and organizational part of non verbal learning disorder. Wow, maybe I can go to a conference and meet other people who never learned to run

It’s also called clumsy child syndrome which makes real sense when you’re an adult. But I’m oh so familiar with the symptoms. And I refuse to let it take over my life. I have allowed enough extraneous stuff rule the past several months.

I have spent most of my life faking normal. I had no choice and I had certain personality and physical attributes that allowed me to do this with ease. What’s adorable at 30 isn’t at 50 or maybe I no longer see myself mirrored through loving eyes.

For reasons I have stated too many times I chose the solitary existence, the road with less bumps when I spent so much of my life navigating dead men’s curves. That might have bought me time and some peace but I miss the thrill of the curve

I miss the girl I was who was so filled with wonder, anticipation and joy. I miss too much living without a master plan

It feels easy to retreat into paralysis. To say I just can’t do this. I can’t do that. It goes against my entire being and yet….

The sub contractor was just here. He doubts the under sink cabinet can be replaced without taking apart the granite and eight sided sink. I replaced the pipe at my expense though it was the building’s responsibility. The floods that happened internally in the cabinet happened because of the pipes. That would make it the coops responsibility to fix but as I fixed the problem their insurance won’t cover it.

I have no frigging idea why I listened to them when they asked me to replace the pipe. Never do yourself what is somebody else’s responsibility in the first place.

I’m sticking to my two week deadline. If it can’t be done, I will have them make it look good. I fell for a good looking apartment.