My Pearls Are Not Working (or, I Am A Horrible Sister (and Wife))

I'm an emotional person. Probably moreso than many others. At least more expressive of my emotions than many others.

I am tired. I am running on fumes. There is no easy "emotional gas station" where I can just go fill up the tank like I did with my car this afternoon after cruising around with the empty light blinking at me for a couple of days...

Sure, there are crutches - food, naps, a few hours sleep, and supposedly for me - a pearl necklace set in silver. Well, I don't have one exactly, but my Grandma gave me a whole string of pearls for my wedding, and it's not set in silver, but one might think that since there are so many, they would help. I've been wearing them the past two days.

The past week? perhaps, I have been getting to bed around 1:15am or later. Since Monday, I get to work late because I can't find any clothes, work a full day, also doing moving related errands/chores over lunch, get home around 5:45 or 6pm and continue packing and cleaning and moving.

This whole move is a domino related effect. Since my mom's house was completely full, we couldn't move things in until something was moved out. Since at least mid-month, we've been able to move things in at a trickle as they moved one or two things out or to the garage, which is more than fair, as the moving date really is the 31st for all of us.

Unfortunately, we had to move all of our big stuff this weekend, as we wouldn't have had time to do it during the week. My family, however, did NOT have the chance to move everything out since A) the basement is not done, B) they have till the 31st and C) there have been some technical difficulties in getting DSL at Jeffrey's house. (The implications of which are that Collin won't move over there until the internet is fast enough for his needs)

Thus began the great pile-up.

My entire focus has been to just get the apartment and the Broadway Building studio empty and clean so we can get our deposits back. So we just threw stuff in the house and kept going. My car is so full, I had to make people hold a box to have room to give them a ride, and thank god it was only ever one person at a time.

Tonight we had our landlord come at 8pm to inspect the apartment to see if it was up to par. She pointed out a few more little things to do on the fridge, windows and ledges above the doors, and suggested we use oven cleaner, so we had to take a trip out to Wal-Mart. (That shit is toxic man, I'm leaving it there for the next guy or something) So all that's left there is stuff to wipe out the oven, the Swiffer mop for one last go at the floor, and the trashbags for any last minute trash.

All that's left in the studio is a metal shelf and the temporary coat closet full of winter-y clothes. We're hoping to pawn off the shelf on the cafe. I still need to vacuum too...

Anyway, back to the domino effect. Collin is sleeping/working/living in our TV room to be. He moved a bunch of stuff out of his old room/the new laundry room down to his current room and put it on the bed. We had brought over our little red fold out chair, so he started sleeping on that, next to his junk-covered mattress.

Our papasan chair, which is supposed to go in the TV room, was sitting in the dining room, blocking the table on that side, and traffic in general. I had asked Collin earlier in the day if he wouldn't mind moving a few things around (perhaps to our entertainment center, which he DID let us move in there) so that I could fit the papasan chair in, and therefore start organizing everything else.

He said he would think about it. I asked him to think about also letting me help him, or do it for him, just as long as I could get the chair in there. He again said he'd think about it.

After a long night of cleaning, and arguing with G over some dirty rags and dishes (he wanted to throw them away, I wanted to wash them and use them for more cleaning and for stuff like "under plant plates") we come home at about 10:30.

Collin has not moved one single thing. I am already tired, grouchy and emotional. I am sick of the chaos in the house and want to be able to at least have a path to walk through it. I ask Collin if I can move some of his stuff around as I pick up a few pennies from the floor and put them in his coin jar, and then put the coin jar on the shelf.

He says not now, he is going to sleep.

I tell him it will only take five minutes.

He says he's going to sleep and will I please get out of his room.

I snap and start ranting about how he's been stealing our food. He says just because what he did was wrong doesn't mean I can come in and force him to move stuff around. He says the main difference is that he is there to defend his space, whereas we just left the stuff out in the open. (it was clearly in a stack of OUR stuff, nowhere near the kitchen, where lines get foggy). He says if I have a problem with this, I should call the landlady (mom).

I realize that I am crossing a line. I realize that it is not fair for me to invade his one tiny corner of space in the world, especially since he has all the rights to it until the 31st. (at least, and perhaps most importantly, as a matter of integrity, no-one has signed anything). I am wicked jealous and resentful of his living outside the box, against the rules, however he wants, no true responsibilities, bills or possessions. I am frustrated by his bizzare sleeping and eating habits and his disregard for cleanliness. I am disgusted at how he leaves dishes/peach pits/apple cores/juice bottles haphazardly all over the room. I am worried he won't take care of himself and get sick.

I start moving stuff anyway.

He says if I'm going to be like this, he's going to go to Jeffrey's house.

I say "GOOD!"

He walks out, I start to move dirty dishes into the kitchen, blinded by tears of rage, frustration, exhaustion and shame.

G is at the computer in the kitchen. I ask him to please do something about all the dishes piled in the sink/on the counters.

He asked what's happening, hearing the obvious meltdown in my voice. I explain, and he says that Collin DOES have till the 31st. I say I need to organize some stuff or I am going to go crazy. He says we're supposed to do that over the long weekend. I say it has to be tonight, something has to happen tonight, I need to tone down at least some of the chaos.

G works on the dishes while I go shove the guest bed around and organize the boxes in that room. I bring a lamp in since the light isn't working.

We get quite a lot organized/moved upstairs. There's a clear path to the cupboards/drawers/closets that still need to be emptied now. A bunch of my more fragile stuff is on a shelf in the dining room in front of a window and therefore less likely to get moved/kicked/dropped etc. I put some a bunch of bags behind the couch, out of the way at least.

Collin ends up coming home. I tell him sullenly that I'm sorry I moved some of his stuff, but it doesn't sound very convincing. He grunts and closes the door to his room.

I have not touched my computer since Sunday? Saturday? I decide a little blogging might do me good. and here I am. 2:01am, later than any of the past few days. Still feeling shit about what I did to my brother, exhausted, but at least somewhat calmed. I know where both my black skirt and my hair dryer are, since I found the bag with both of them in it tonight, so I have something to wear and some part of my morning routine back.

Now if I can just wake up in time for it...