Correction: It has been brought to my attention that in my discombobulated state I got some of the facts wrong on my last post. First of all, Vince did not ask me to wait when I called him from the bathroom for some clean underwear. Wouldn't want anyone to think that cleaning the mattress was more important to him than I am. He states that he brought them to me immediately and that was when we heard the awful rasping/gasping sound. When he pulled me forward to help me gain consciousness is when I stopped breathing. But the part about scaring the sh*t out of him, that part I got correct. Just so you know.
Our day started like any other Sunday. Up at a reasonable time, get the kids and self ready, head off to 10am Mass. We knew we had a showing at 4pm, but got a call for another showing at 1pm on our way back home from Mass. Did I mention our rental house is on the market? Oh, that will have to be a whole other post. I had prepped the ingredients for blueberry scones the night before and thought I'd throw a batch in the oven, get the house quickly picked up for the showing, and we'd be out the door after Mass to head over to Azle to see the new house.
Everything was going as planned, the scones were baked, the kids were munching along happily. I chose a scone for myself, then put it down to head upstairs to make sure everything was nice and cleaned up for the showing. It all went down hill from there. I came back down stairs to find my scone gone. Someone else had eaten it. I'd only gotten maybe four bites, then someone took it for themselves. I'm not naming any names, I'm not even sure who it was, but it didn't matter. It also didn't matter that there were four other untouched, warm, fresh-from-the-oven scones that I could have easily taken to finish. You would have thought by my reaction that someone had just stolen or vandelized one of my most prized possessions. I got hot, a knot in my stomach, a rage in my chest. I actually flashed back to my teenage years, when I remember something so trivial getting me to such a state of rage, and knowing that I was being ridiculous, but not being able to stop myself anyway. This was not an uncommon thing during my teens. Be afraid, be very afraid. So after angering my husband and scaring my children, my anger turned to sadness. A sadness that I couldn't explain. A sadness that stayed with me for the remainder of the day.
We got to Azle and the builders were there on a Sunday, trying to keep on schedule for us as best they could. The cabinets were in, stained and beautiful. That didn't help. The granite was in, and it didn't look too dark like I thought it would. That didn't help either. Most of the lighting fixtures were up. Eh, who cares. Vince commented on the paint, and I didn't even notice that the house had been painted. I choose too light a color for the interior. Anger at myself and big weepy tears. The kitchen sick wasn't the dimensions I asked for, it was too small. Anger at the builders, and more tears. I didn't like the way they changed the laundry room into a laundry area and half bath. More anger, more tears.
We came home and Vince placed a call to the builders to see what could be changed and what I would just have to learn to live with. He was very patient and concerned during my meltdowns. I realize I'm pretty bitchy anyway, but normally nothing like this. I'm sure my hormones are just getting the better of me and I'm going to have to ride them out until I get back to normal.
The highlight of my day was a last minute trip to Target to get some cucumbers and pasta for dinner tonight while Vince put the kids to bed. Before I headed back home I sat in the car in the parking lot and shoved 100 Grand bars and Crunchy Reese Peanut Butter bars down my throat. Not a good day.
After my last post, Vince told me that if there ever was a need for some cuteness, it was that post. So here you go. Updated photos of the house to come soon.