Blorft Chronicles: Desk War

  The Desk War continued yesterday. It started with the "I need another bookshelf!" demand. But now there was a twist: "The desk you bought me doesn't fit!"

I confess: My blorft face slid down my neck to hide under my boobs.

"The fuck?" It was not anger. It was major disappointment and a bit of feeling insulted. My usual protests arose: Mom, you have too much stuff, you don't need all this. And where would you put it? And I need bookshelves, too.

But when she began to demand, I went full-on chupacabra. Not the hairless dog kind, either.

 "Fine!" I dug out the screwdriver and put in on the largest box containing her new desk. "Have fun with that." And, with a few choice words about being selfish, I went up the stairs to vent at Better Half.

It was absolutely wrong of me to do it, but I have spent months trying to set up a space where I can work, all the while having to pause those efforts to cater to my mother's demands. I totally understand the frustration of wanting to write but not having a space to do it. After all, I've spent seven years in a 2' x 5' space in our cramped bedroom.

A little later on, I came down the stairs to find her in a sour mood. We had a brief discussion about compromise and then I explained that we will need movers because we're too old to be carrying any of this shit downstairs.

"Plus, they can bring the brown couch up and my blue couch down here in the living room, Mom."

Oh my frog, that was an explosion. "ALL MY STUFF IS GREEN. I DON'T WANT A BLUE COUCH IN HERE."

I quietly walked away. We fed the dogs and then Better Half and I opted to go up to Austin Lake with Hershey.

I enjoy nature. I find beauty in the bare trees and crunchy leaves. Spring will come soon enough but the silence of winter is just as breathtaking.

 

We then head over to Calcutta to pick up a few things at Giant Eagle. It was a nice evening plus we were able to break in the Bronco more. What a fun mini SUV!

Our arrival home was met by a disheartened "we need to talk" from my mother.

I do not think my mom is capable of understanding things from other people's perspective. Non-the-less, I completely understand that she shelled out a lot for the new AC and ice cube thingy repair. However, I don't think she understands how much we pay, including taking things out of her grocery cart (we shop together) and putting them into mine so I can pay for it. I also think she might believe movers are very expensive. They are not. They usually charge by the hour. We can prep everything to be moved, and they will be done in an hour. $45-$80 an hour, no biggie.

That means that her old desk goes downstairs, as well as all but one bookshelf, all the boxes holding office supplies, the cabinet holding office supplies, the shit in boxed under said deck, and so on. They can bring the new desk (still boxed) upstairs for us. If there is enough time, I will ask them to move the massive overhead thingamabob to the garage.

That will give Better Half and I a clean slate for the office/den. Set up the YV on my old black desk, build the new desk, drag the blue couch in here. Done.

I realize that people unfamiliar with my blog will not understand the living situation and why I seem perpetually ticked off at my mother. I am not, actually. I just want the hoarding to stop.