Boy, it's funny how buying a house that's not quite move in ready will change things for you.
A week ago Jess and I and the boys moved into our new house. 56 days before that we closed on the place. And everyday, with the exception of two or three, I was over at the house, with my dad, getting the place ready.
In a situation such as that, a lot of normal functions go by the wayside. Things like eating, spending time with your family, hanging out with friends, etc. It makes you think, though: what is necessary? Well food, clothing, shelter, of course. But there is more. I made it 56 days. Barely. If I had to work the two jobs, as I was basically doing, for much longer, I would have cracked. I could feel it. Patience thin. Frustration always brimming.
It brings me back to where I often end up. American life is a toughie. We have first world problems: where am I going to park my third car; how do I balance Netflix with Redbox; oh my god, getting my house move-in ready is so hard. The point is--how can I complain? What right do I have?
And yet I do. I want my time to read books. I want my time to blog. I want my time to read the news. I want my time to make jokes with my wife, and screw with my kids.
Thank God we're moved in. Those time are coming--at some point.