*Breathes* Well, hello again World. How has life been? Me, oh, I've been peachy. Well, maybe not "peachy"... Here it is, May 22, we've been living in the new house for just about a month now and it's still not finished. It's been a huge adjustment for us all; Unfortunately, it seems my mother and I are having the worst of it. It's difficult sharing space with grandma. Sure, she's connected through a long breezeway and will pretty much stay in her little boxcar house, but for now, until our kitchen is put together, until our house is complete, we're having to share that space with her because her space is all finished--she has working appliances, countertops, a sink...all done. The only thing missing is the hot water, which we won't have until the inspector comes to give us the okay to turn on the gas and that won't happen until FTE (Fucking Tap Electric) come and finish their rotten job. Showering in icy water has been a real pleasure, let me tell you. -.- So anyway, grandma cooks and everything and expects everyone to be home, sitting down to eat at 6:00 sharp. She gets mad when I'm not there, or if I "disappear" after dinner. She interferes. She says things, does things, and is completely oblivious to the effects. I miss the way grandma used to be when grandpa was around--especially when I was small and could humor her by being there to take care of and play with and read to. The best I can do now is sit down and play cards with her but I'm older now, I have a busy life and those nights that I can spare just sitting in a quiet kitchen playing Kings in the Corner are few and far between. It's hard, sharing space with her; sharing lives. Of course she loves Kris--doesn't know he stays the night; she'd probobly start swearing in a language she says she's forgotten. Anyway. It's tough. Real tough. And every day that mom walks through the house and doesn't see any improvements, the angrier and more stressed out she becomes. Not that I blame her. I'm tired of living out of boxes, too. And it's not just that, it's the fact that our things have been shoved around, dragged, kicked, moved a hundred times, dug through to find what we need...I wake up in the morning and find workers outside my uncovered window--of course they're working and thankfuly my dad is usually out there with them, but every morning there are people all around my house. I go to get some water and find there isn't any because the workers have drunk it all. So I tell my dad he's got to stop letting them drink it because it isn't fair for us to keep buying cases of water every day and then having none for us. Someone was doing something to the oven and when they were done, they stuck the heavy thing on top of a box. They crushed the box and possibly broke some of my mothers' knick-knacks because some careless idiot just put the damn oven wherever was convienent for THEM. I come home and find decorations laying by the side of the driveway; dust and dirt all over things still in the garage; my dresser beaten up on the edges because of carelessness. As I explained to her in a fit of tears the other night, I feel like my entire life is stuffed in a box and everyone just keeps kicking the shit out of it. Sometimes I love our house. I love the views and the fact that I can step just outside my front door and take amazing photos like the one above. I love that it's ten degrees cooler than our old house. I love that I have a huge closet and my own bathroom. I love our new piano and the living room in its intirity. I love that my parents designed it and my dad has been there building it. But right now, there is so much frustration, so much anger and stress--a huge, dark cloud is just hovering over our house sucking out so much of the goodness. And I'm afraid that cloud is not going to go away until this house is completely done and things have settled...until Cody comes back to his real home, until mom feels organized and in her right mind, until dad finally gets all the knots out of his back. Well, that's all I have time for right now. I have to go meet my working boy for lunch--Tim was able to use his connections to get Kris an internship at WRG Design (civil engineering, basically). And I am currently helping out DP with their big move to a new office building. In other positive news, I did surprising well last semester, considering my heavy load of 18 hours and then doing the play. It's not Dean's List, but I still have a cum. gpa of 3.7; not too shabby. Well, here's to better days...*cheers* Carrie