And it’s quitting time. I should be excited to be going home. So why am I wishing I could camp out at the office?
Too much drama. To put it simply.
The more complex answer involves the RV we bought earlier this year and the dry rot they found in the floor of the slide. Stir in the new loan JD thinks we might need to take against my retirement and you have a recipe for emotional disaster.
I found myself fighting tears on the way to the train, not very successfully. And I don’t know where I’m going with this. Venting I guess before I get home. This is the only “safe” place I can do that.
In spite of the frustration and despair this is causing, I know if it needs to be done to keep the RV in usable condition I will do it. There’s no point in arguing about it. I love being able to take the grandkids away and also the times we go on our own. We can do more fun stuff by camping than we ever could if we had to get hotel rooms every time.
But I think I’m entitled to a mini rant since it’s my retirement we’re raiding. He doesn’t have any retirement to raid after his divorce from TBFH*. So it’s all on me. Sort of the way work feels these days. And for the very briefest second on my trip to the train I gave a thought to stepping in front of a bus ~ seeing what’s next. Even then though my brain immediately put the kibosh on the idea. Why ruin that bus driver’s day?
*The Bitch From Hell (like you couldn’t figure that out.)