Stuff?

It’s been a few days since I’ve written, posted? Whatever. I figured I should say something.

Yesterday my husbands sister and her husband came to have dinner and hang out. I’m worried about what I should say just is in case they come across this, I don’t want to offend them. (I realize I shouldn’t be so paranoid but I’m always in a defensive/explanation mode that I can’t shake.)

Anyway. They’re are nice and generous, easy to get along with. But peopling is hard for me.  He laughs a lot and it’s quite loud, which triggers me in a sensory overload way.  I’m used to being at home alone. He’s not doing anything wrong and it doesn’t bother me… But it does bother me. You know?

Everyone has things about their home that bugs them and want to fix or change. Company tends to make me more self-conscious about those things. I’m sure I’m not alone.  But … I have a really old home and 100+ year old hardwood floors that haven’t been taken care of for at least the last 50 of those years. My husband finally sanded and finished them a month or so ago and they look so much better…

But the damage was already done. It’s been neglected for so long that it has stains, termite damage and what looks like burns. We’d have to send the floor about a quarter inch to get back to glory.  The people before us suck.

I digress. (I learned that from The Golden Girls) We had to move everything out of the rooms to get to the floors and now it’s like I’m trying to cram way too much shit back in.  I can’t figure out where to put things so stuff is everywhere. More sensory overload.

And they’re here, in my house, while it’s like this. I don’t feel like they are judging, but they could. And I I feel inferior, ashamed, gross… I’m sure there is a word but I’m a simple word kinda woman.

I’ve said so much without saying much and I’ve lost my train of thought, so I’m going back to my crochet.