I tried asking. I tried explaining. I tried flat-out telling my Beloved to do the thing.
Beloved.
Just WON'T.
Help.
Unfuck the garage.
I told them, because the cleaning company told me, that any extra time on the unfuckening in there would end up costing us more than the usual. I did not tell Beloved that I'd already taken money out of the other bank account to cover the cost of tomorrow.
Maybe I should have. I still have today. So does Beloved. One last chance to get some supplementary unfucking done.
Sunday is looking like the day that we're doing the whole social visit thing. Therefore, on Saturday, I am absorbing all the me-time I can get. Expect the story to arrive very late. Because I will be recharging.
Beloved seems to be devoted to the idea of waiting for the crisis to be taken care of by other people. There is huge inertia there. Which worries me for the time(s) when I won't be around to crisis manage for them.
We need to have a nice, long, in-depth discussion about the things they leave undone and why. But not this weekend. This weekend is a day of recharge, followed by more charging around for other people.
I need a time window for this kind of discussion.
In health news - the plumbing blockage I had yesterday has shifted. I lost the better part of a kilo in the process. And I feel a lot better about myself and my place in the universe now. Huzzah. Anxiety has caused a minor flare-up in my asthma. Anti-huzzah.
Eh. I need to get on with what I'm getting on with.