pamibe

So, here’s a thing.

My biological siblings (paternal) found me. (I was adopted at birth, which isn’t a thing.)

After getting the cold shoulder from my maternal half-sister, this was good news. I was excited. They were excited. We exchanged some info and I’ve spoken to the oldest sister on the phone twice.  After that I wanted to fade into the wallpaper.

Don’t get me wrong, they’re very nice, open people who could have just ignored the DNA results. Instead, they said “Hey, we have a new sister!”

I’m sandwiched in between two brothers. One born barely a year before me, one a year after. Logically, I knew it had nothing to do with me, but I was so embarrassed and ashamed.  That bastard! I know he was in the Navy, but damn.

Add to that all the siblings are highly educated with great careers. Accomplished people. And I’m… well, I’ve done nothing, I’ve made nothing and I am nothing. That’s what keeps cycling through my head, over and over….

Just to add… Oldest sister asked what I do all day and I was stumped. I fritter. Laze. Loll. I am one of life’s lollopers.

So I would like to hide, yes and thank you very much to you. All in all, it’s been a gigantic mindbender.

Yes, I need a Miranda fix.

When I first started blogging the posts came frequently because, honestly, there was some over-sharing. But like all bloggers, I finally realized that nobody wants to hear about breakfast or see pictures of iguanas riding the dogs.

This is my week so far…

Monday

Last day of cleaning the house. Yes, it took all weekend and then some. New houses are remarkably easy to clean and keep that way, but old houses are never really clean. Trust me.

I also met a new cat out in the driveway; a young-ish orange tom. He was pretty scarred from fighting, one paw was hurt and yes, he was on the lean side. After a pleasant chat and pet I walked away. Then he haunted my dreams for two nights. It’s hard to walk away, but if I became involved with every animal that needs help… really, just keeping up with YsD’s needs is becoming ridiculous.

Tuesday

I splashed 8 different paint colors on the master bedroom walls. The man and I don’t agree on any of them. He thought Ultra Bright White appropriate for the closet, but drew the line at blowing out his retinas first thing in the morning – if he could even sleep in an  all-white environment. That’s vaguely racist, isn’t it? Well, maybe in today’s world.

Shaved Badger’s butt since she had the Big D for a few days and ohmygosh if I had to bathe that dog’s hind end one more time… It takes two full inches to get from the fringe to the hole, if you’re wondering. I knew you weren’t.

Wednesday

As WWIII approached I drew my battle plan; early dinner, thorough walks and televisions on loud. It wasn’t too bad, but c’mon… when it sounds like mortar fire is coming from mere feet away and your house shakes from the blasts… not too much helps. I sincerely hope there are no combat vets with PTSD issues living close to the ‘festivities’.

Thursday

Though the walls demand the *right paint, the need to run to Home Depot is negated by 100° temps. The plan is to remain cloistered, all drapes/blinds drawn like we’re hiding from the Feds. The only obstruction to peace has been the Amazon deliveries. No, I cannot go to WalMart like normal people. Meds would probably help with my overreaching introversion, but I don’t like going to doctors. Ha!

Worked out for the first time in weeks, though. When painting, i.e. ‘really working’, I tend to let the regular stuff slide. As long as the body moves around enough, it’s alright. That’s just a guess, though.

Wonder what tomorrow will bring?

*After a dozen not right paints, I’m willing to roll those walls with just about anything…