The Final Mile

Working on rebuilding the house that I bought has felt like a marathon. I've been at it since June 20th, but now, the end is in sight. The interior is nearly finished, one room is left, and it's in progress right now, then it's moving to the exterior, it needs new siding, and work on the garage, but the family is talking about me moving in possibly next week, or two weeks from now, since the interior is nearly done (the last bedroom can probably be finished this week, and a new washer has been put into the basement this week).

As I took a shower Tuesday night there during a long 14 hour rebuilding session on the front bedroom, trying to wash off all the plaster that was all over me (yes, I said 14 hours), it finally seemed to hit me, that this is real, it’s happening, it won’t be long before I move in.

It took 2 years of working and saving up money to get to this point, and years of all out war with family to break free from that college, which I’m now convinced that mom knew full well was a scam, but kept trying to force me to go anyway, to make it impossible for me to work and save money to get out, and then barricaded me in the house when I tried to leave anyway.

Everything was thrown in my path to stop me, but I won. That can’t be taken away from me, that victory. The only problem is what it has taken to get there. I am worn out right now in so many different ways. I’m tired, mentally and physically, the Cymbalta helps some, but my energy levels are still probably about that of someone twice my age or more. Financially, I’m more than broke right now, I had a good laugh recently when I heard the Johnny Cash song "Busted", because I know the feeling right now (I’m still surprised there’s a Johnny Cash song  I haven’t heard before).