Oh I know, I know. Everyone has it rough, and tough, and we all have problems and blah, blah, blah. But here's the thing. I'm only human, and humans can be superhuman, and humans can be less than human. Right now I feel like I am a bit of both.
J is away on a business trip, and once again I am here, in our house, with MIL, her dog, and the twins. So, for all intents and purposes I am the only functioning adult in the house. And all the other four beings need something from me pretty much constantly.
Living in a teeny town is great, and in the summer season there is so much to do. But now it is the off season, and the limitations of living in a teeny town with twin toddlers and a failing mom in law are magnified as, aside from yet ANOTHER walk outside, there is often nothing to do to keep everyone occupied.
MIL is failing fast, and the stress of that alone is enough to push me to teetering. The girls need me more than ever when J is away, and right now, far too often, that neediness presents itself in the form of whining, which is like pouring acid on already frayed nerves. I am so behind in paperwork that I have become phobic about even starting to deal with all the papers stuffed in my file cabinets. The idea of the amount of stuff I need to do this winter to get set up for next spring is stalking my subconscious. And to top it all off I'm running low on food.
There is a small grocery store here, but it has a limited selection and, of course, a bit of a mark up so the owners can have a viable business. Thank goodness we have the store. But I have a few mouths to feed and I cannot rely solely on the little store so my once weekly trips to the bigger town for a full grocery shop are imperative and, aside from the stress of having to repeatedly get two toddlers in and out of the car, the town trips are a way to get out of Dodge and take a deep breath and remember what it is like to be in a place with traffic lights and strangers and restaurants that open all day and malls (even if they are lame malls).
My keys are MIA. I haven't needed them for a couple of weeks, so I haven't had the need to look for them. They are always where they are supposed to be. Except this time. My best guesses are: they fell out in the locked car and are on the floor and I can't get to them because the car is locked, OR the girls were playing with my purse, OR my MIL took them as she gets mixed up about this life and her old life sometimes and maybe thought they were hers, OR I dropped them somewhere outside. And J is out of town with the only other set. So I am stuck here. Stuck. So stuck.
In a remote town like this, car keys equal freedom. I have misplaced my freedom. Shit.
Last night J put a new key on the Greyhound and it will get here some time today so by the time someone drives in and gets it for me and then drives back it will be evening, and tomorrow I agreed to watch a friend's kids, and then it will be Wednesday by the time I can get to town and J will be coming home that day anyway.
So this is one of those weeks when our blissful living arrangements seem like a messed up idea. This week I want easy access to daycare, and public transit, and a spa, and a restaurant, and all the stuff that the big city can offer.
So I was deep in this place of self pity when Hurricane Sandy hit the east coast and managed to cripple New York City. And it struck me that for a brief moment the most important metropolis in the world had fewer amenities than our tiny town. Wow. That is amazing and really should provide some glimmer of comfort and make me appreciate my own life. But right now I am too busy feeling all sorry for myself to be that big and logical. I just want my damn keys.