Hell House

So, I'm feeling a wee bit despondent over the restoration/rejuvenation/renovation of Humphrey House the past few days. "Jen, I feel overwhelmed, too," Jason tells me. But overwhelmed doesn't even begin to describe what I've been feeling. It's not that I'm overwhelmed anymore - that's how it began. Now I feel ... hopeless. The first thing I see every morning when I open my eyes? Cracked walls covered with decades-old strips of green glue that once held on tacky pressboard paneling that now I would even prefer to the shock of utter chaos I see every a.m. And I'm a chaotic person, truth be told, so chaos shouldn't/didn't bother me. But now, I feel like a tornado must after it destroys a small town - spent, wasted, and feeling melancholy for the good old days.

I've never been a fan of cleaning - anyone who knows me can attest to this fact - but I always came through in the end. Now, I don't see a point. The place is a disaster no matter what I do - we have nowhere to put the things we own, why bother inventing a new place all the time? Why not just leave it be? I know this is a bad attitude, but I currently don't know what to do to change it. Maybe I will just have another glass of wine ...