Not sure what to say. . .

How's it going, you ask.

Well, it's going.

Life since moving into the new place is pretty much like life prior to moving into the new place, except that there's more space to try and keep clean and more storage room to hide junk.

But seriously, I love the house. I love its spaciousness and its airiness and all the windows and light that flows in. I love the dishwasher. And the garage. And the choice of bathrooms.

I'd love it even more if I could find some time to actually be here.

I know, that'll change one of these days. One day too soon the kids will be grown and gone and I'll have nothing but house and time. But still, I can't help but wish I had more time to devote to just being at home. Now. While the kids are inhabiting the spaces, before this phase of my life is over.

Although. . .

I have to admit, just being at home is not the pleasurable experience that it used to be because, well, Grandma is here.

It's difficult for me to explain the impact she's having on me, on my life. On the one hand, it's very minimal because the time I spend at the house engaged with her is minimal simply due to the demands of work and kids and life. On the other hand, though, I catch myself consciously trying to minimize opportunities where the two of us have no choice but to interact.

It's hard to put it into words. . .

To be completely honest, I would like it better if Grandma were not here. Dealing with her--her infirmities, her irritating habits, her indifference to other's needs and wants--is difficult for me. And it's true that her presence in my home is affecting my desire to be involved in my home. And this is concerning to me.

I don't want to dread coming home. But sometimes I do, these days. But why? What is it that she's doing?

It's not just one thing. That's the problem. It's a series of things. And some of them she just can't help, I know.

Donald has a much better outlook on it than I do. She's so fortunate that he's here.

Oh well, I'm sleepy. And simply too tired and irritated to go into this too much tonight. I'll just get all depressed and whiny if I keep this up and who wants to read that crap?

So until next time. . .

G'night.