Yesterday, G’s sister, the one who hasn’t been to visit us yet, said she might come out for a visit in September. SEPTEMBER. Right now, G is upstairs frantically vacuuming, bleaching the shit of out stuff, and already beginning to fret over “how things look” and if everything is “clean”. She is just barely coming off over 2 weeks of not being able to keep hardly any food in her due to out of control acid reflux. I mean, tossing her cookies if she laughs, coughs, bends over, etc. Any kind of emotional stress triggers that acid reaction, so now we have nearly 2 MONTHS of this ahead of us.
If I say anything, she’ll just say that she’d be doing it “anyway”, but she wouldn’t. Not with that kind of frantic quality–like her sister is going to come with the white gloves and the whip. I mean, I’ve never met this sister, but she’s a dairy farmer and used to keep baby goats in her living room. I highly doubt she’s going to look for our dust bunnies!
Ya’ll help me breathe and get through this, okay? And I promise to pick up my Kleenex after me (G’s biggest pet peeve about me).