For the second time in my life folks have decided it is wise if I have a place of my own to go to. The first time there were 12 of us living in a 5 bedroom house. I was 12-13. No one wanted to share a room with me so I got my own. Let me tell you, everyone made a big deal out of the fact how that was the one room in the house where I ought to be.

This time Noah and the kids are not real happy about the fact that I’m climbing into my closet to hide under the clothes to cry because there isn’t any where else in the house where it is appropriate for me to do so. I’m probably always going to cry. I don’t know how to make that stop. I’m a whiny, immature, ridiculous baby and I need to cry. I’m sorry.

So we moved stuff. Again. I’m so sick of moving shit in my house. And the dining room/kitchen have plastic sheeting up for walls so that dehumidifiers can remove water from the walls after a hose burst.

I WANT TO STOP LIVING IN A HOUSE THAT IS SHIFTING AND UNDER GOD DAMN CONSTRUCTION.

So we put the bunk beds in the sleeping room. We also moved the kid dresser and book shelf into there. One of the smaller dressers we had previously had in there stayed for Noah’s clothes. The other two dressers went into what was the kid bedroom/long time ago former office.

I get an office/clothes storage room. I’m going to get a damn door and I’m going to put a lock on it.

I’m going to have my bondage picture up on the wall and keep kids out.

Noah has taken over the garage (that was kinda my office for a long time but with him working at home… I got squeezed out). The kids still have a play room and beds they can be alone in. We do permit children to say they need alone time in the play room.

I have in the van, to get rid of, 5 bags of toys from the play room. The play room is really not a little bit empty. But maybe they can put stuff away now. Except for stuff that is too big (baseball bat, weapons, giant chess set) their toys now fit in the pull out drawers against the wall. The playroom feels really nice. It feels useable and not over stuffed. I have no idea how long this will last. I cringe to consider it.

But all the doll house stuff and all the play kitchen stuff fit in bins. Cleaning up that room can be done lickity split. I pray it lasts a week. Sob.

In the move to a new room I asked Noah if I could steal one of his GIANT monitors. He let me. Now I have a screen that is genuinely in a place that is good for my neck and a keyboard at the right height. This feels miraculous. It’s still not an ideal keyboard, but it’s better than I’ve ever done before. Progress.

I want to get back to working on books and that is going to take some space in my life and some infrastructure. I’m almost there. I’m going to finish painting the kitchen this week. (Beloved submissive, I am going to be boooooooooooring and leave it a palm tree instead of a banana tree because I’m at the point of hysterics thinking about 15-20 hours of painting. I’m going to finish the damn cabinets that are white and stop. I’m so tired.)

Dad comes to visit next week for Eldest Child’s birthday. We are all looking forward to seeing him and I don’t want to do this work when he’s here. Noah’s birthday is the weekend after that and I promised Noah he could get rid of my paint for his birthday present.

Hey, don’t judge my marriage.

I still haven’t heard from any of the dudes who are fixing our water damage yet today. I really don’t want to track them down.

I hate owning a house.