I had a blah weekend. The highpoint was definitely dinner with the kids, which is always a wonderful thing. But next month we definitely go back to eating at home, and not because of the expense of a restaurant. I actually hate the tables in most restaurants; they are either long and skinny with chairs or long and skinny booths. With 4 people it’s fine; with 6 it feels like you’re constantly talking across and/or over someone else. At home we use a round folding table, one of those office portable/temporary things. I throw a table cloth over it, whip out the folding chairs, and voila! We have insta-dining room.

For whatever reason I was in a bit of a funk this weekend. M was as well, although I think with him it was partly because of something he ate that made him feel poorly. Either way it was a low-energy event, and slogging away through work for much of it certainly didn’t help. Where normally I feel productive and efficient in getting my part-time jobs monthly accounting done, I gotta say this weekend I was wondering if the extra money is actually worth it. Under nearly all circumstances it most definitely is lucrative and something we can feel in our budget and splurge savings. But I was in a negative frame of mind and frankly a bad mood most of the weekend. Most unlike me.

Thinking about it today, I realize I am still trying to get mom’s estate settled (she died March 2013). House sold a year ago. All the bills were paid by the end of October 2013. Tax returns (no refund, no tax due) were filed in January. I met with the replacement estate attorney (first was laid off a week after the house closed) the first week of November 2013. Since then, I have received 2 emails from him, the last of which was in January telling me he’d finally had an opportunity to look at the file and would be getting appropriate documents together once tas return was file. I sent him copies of the tax returns and proof of filing at the end of January. Since then, radio silence.

Annoying. REALLY annoying. I also know my own procrastination and not staying on him about getting this completed contributes directly to his lackadaisical attitude, and my own procrastination stems from the distaste I have for my mother and family of origin. In truth I hate thinking about them, hate the angry cloudburst that forms in my mind and spreads like an aura around me. I am trying to find my big girl panties so I can put them on and just deal with this shit.

Since I was already lingeringly cranky from the weekend, I called the attorney’s office about the file to see if I can light a fire under  him about getting it done. Except … he’s presently undergoing chemotherapy and will not be in this week because of treatment. From the little shared with me about his condition and prognosis it sounds like an uphill battle. That took a lot of cranky out of my sails, and I told her I’d send him an email. Which I did, inquiring politely about the status of my final accounting and wishing him the best on his health journey. And basically feeling like a tiny, inconsiderate being because I had a crappy childhood and now everyone is dead, leaving me to clean up the legal stuff.

While I do wish this was filed and done so I could write a check to the court and to the attorney for services rendered and close the last chapter of this book, I also realize it is not that significant in the bigger scheme of things. I continue to allow my family – all of them deceased – the ability to ruin my normally sunny outlook. I should just stop. I say that every time I slink into the family funk business.

So after this wake up call about someone have a much bigger, better reason to be cranky, I got busy with work and putting myself into a more pleasant state of being. Think happy thoughts! Well, not really, but at least I forced myself to cease wallowing. My weekend pity party was officially over and the hangover had smote me.

Today I chose to relegate it back to the items I no longer need to think about or speak about. Today, anyway. I am hopeful the attorney will soon be well enough to finish my paperwork so I can close and lock that childhood door for good and throw away the key.

3 thoughts on “The power of negative thinking

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