I have rearranged my entire life & existence because Shawn has always wanted his own business.  I have done eBay (even though I hate it with a passion of passions) for ten years, on and off.  I have dealt with items and junk and sellable things strewn from one end of the house to the other.  This is a deplorable act for a neat freak.

I have picked up after, lost sleep and weekends.  I have cleaned, rearranged, driven to & fro.  I have developed what I suspect are the tiniest beginning of stomach ulcers or cancer--why not?  I have cried and taken handfuls of Advil.  I have worked volunteer overtime doing the things that no one wants to do.  I have accepted the fact that hillbillies have invaded my front yard and the back.

And what do I get for it?

Yelled at, screamed to, and cussed upon.  I do not look forward to coming home.  I dread the weekend.  I'm sick of eBay & festivals.  I'm tired of living with a pressure cooker with an unpredictable mood.  Though lately it's been fairly predictable:  Angry and more angry. 

I "joke" that I may very well hurl myself off a bridge.  I fear God has given me all I can handle.  I may take up drinking as a hobby.  I can certainly understand why some people fall down that slippery slope. 

I can no longer handle the stress, the constant upset, the never ending of things not working, running out of time, and something broken. 

I'd like one day--JUST ONE FREAKING DAY--without something going wrong, without being upset about something.  Seems the only time I am not upset is when I am sleeping.  Perhaps I'll take up a voluntary addiction to pain medications like so many others.

....Just to escape the pressure for a little while.

The devil roams about like a lion, seeking who he may devour.  I feel as though I've been chewed on thoroughly.  Not yet devoured.  I supposed there's a glimmer of hope somewhere in there, though I have yet to see it.

I was put on this planet for one reason alone.  God created me for the sole purpose to do for Shawn & what he wants.  At least it feels that way.  If that isn't the case then I really have no idea why God made me at all.  Sometimes I wish He hadn't.  If I had been aborted, I could have grown up in Heaven.  No tears, no weeping, no pain, emotional or physical.

If Shawn had not taken my vehicle after I'd come home from work, I might have already driven off in search of a tall bridge.