Panic Room (3808-3911)

I’m still trying to shake off the effects of this last week, what a shit storm. Between engaging in the battle to the death with my M.O.M. and the crazy painter going berserk, I’m hunkering down.

My AirBnB clients just left so I’m doing something very unusual, I’m commandeering the guest suite for myself. It’s damn nice and it seems that I have the tendency to hang out in here when I get overwhelmed. It’s my panic room. I felt a panic attack coming on today with the clutching pain in my chest, so I figure it’s justifiable to use the room for the night.

Tonight I have my own bathroom, lots of windows, my own bed and ZERO CLUTTER; it’s a dream come true. The only damper is that the previous (and extremely nice) tenants must have bathed in eucalyptus oil.  It smells like an Asian salon in here. It’s a small price to pay for a deluxe stay-cation.

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Here’s my Panic Room. For between $100-125/night, you can stay here, too.

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I had Chinese takeout and watched “How To Marry A Millionaire”, I felt like I was on vacation.

When I start getting all Poor Me about things, I have to remind myself what a wonderful town I live in, with such amazing friends who would literally shield me from a crazy man and help me clean up his mess, and this wonderful home, cluttered though it is. I mentioned that I rent space in my house to vacationers and we do a nice business.

People pay to vacation in my home. How’s that for perspective?

If only my whole house looked like this, not just one room. I really need to strengthen my resolve to evict Zeb’s business from this room’s counterpart and take it for my own. Not to be too airy-fairy, but Tabby said that I need to protect my “heart space”. There is no space in the house that feels like my own, untouchable by the chaos.

I’m hoping a long, hot shower and the effects of total solitude will juice me back up. Well, not total solitude, Blue is in here with me. I love that stupid dog. And Scrotus. He loves sleeping with me. So does Testy but he grinds his teeth which is torture to sleep next to. Scrote is a more reserved child, perhaps because he is older, so when he wants to be close and lovey, I’m right there.

I don’t want to get in the habit of skipping purge days so I did a few things today. First of all, I am rather embarrassed to admit that I broke down and got an iPhone. T-mobile started carrying them and it makes sense for me to have a few more options than my old flip phone allowed.

The first thing I did was turn off as many of the notifications as possible. I don’t need that thing bitching at me all day. The second thing I did was go through my address book. I dumped at least 100 defunct names and addresses.

Except one. Liza. She committed suicide about a year ago and I’m not ready to let go of her yet.

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Liza and me at the summit of Mt. Sherman, one of Colorado’s 14,000 peaks.

Then I washed my car. It’s mud season right now and between Blue sitting his filthy ass on Scrotus’s seat and Tabby’s mongrels muddying up the foot well in the front, my car is practically a write off. I am deliriously happy about all the precipitation we’ve been getting but I feel like a loser every time I get into my car.

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I decided to suck it up and clean out the whole thing and it feels so much better. Sometimes it’s the little things that make the greatest impact. Right now I need visible, tangible results.

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I bought a nifty bluetooth speaker to go with my iPhone. This mess of wires has been sitting under my desk for a long time and it hasn’t worked for at least a year. I don’t know if it’s the connector in my computer or the speaker itself, but it has been gathering dust and annoying me for a long time now. DONATE.

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These were such fails. I purchased these for last winter’s road trip to see the Cushies. I thought I’d save a load of dough by purchasing off brand MP3 players for the boys to listen to books on. The only thing is that NOTHING works on these. NOTHING. Anything from audible or iTunes requires an Apple product, natch. And the navigation on them are for shit. We’ve got a couple old iPods rattling around now that I have a spiffy new phone, so I’m DONATING these.

5 thoughts on “Panic Room (3808-3911)

  1. Sincerely sorry to learn about your friend Liza, Viv. I never heard about it until now. I remember that photo well, from the period that must also be memorable to you guys: you and Zeb, the “summer of fourteeners.” Did you know (but how would you?) that I had that pic up on my refrigerator for a couple years? What a couple of outrageously cute babes you were!

  2. That is a great picture of you and Liza. Sorry to hear about the loss of her 🙁
    I really like what you did with those rooms! They look lovely!

    • Thanks Lily. She was a tortured soul. I’m glad she isn’t suffering anymore. We sure did have some good times, though. I’ll keep her in my address book a little longer, for the memories.

  3. Pingback: Night Stalker (4260-4272) | Vivienne's Process of Elimination

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