My Home is Exploding and then Imploding + Work Stresses


I’m having trouble sleeping, and I’m eating nonstop, insatiable.

No I am not pregnant. I am stressed.

Stressed Jen is not pretty. She doesn’t even want to see your face, so you won’t see her.

We have a dinner date with someone we haven’t seen in at least half a year, and I’m tempted to cancel in lieu of skulking around the dark rows of the movie theatre, living out the fantasy of someone else’s story. Horror. The possession of Anna of some other occult movie. Anything than dealing with the current.

The current isn’t bad, but I’m not keen on it. It leaves me, eyes closed, 3 AM struggling in bed to get back to sleep. It begs me to get up, tool around on the internet, eat 2-3 servings of pretzels for no reason – I’m not going anywhere. I’m going back to bed in an hour.

What is driving my stress?

1) We’re Homeless Again in 11 Days

Yesterday my husband and I began tearing apart our home. As you read in the last post, we have 11 days to vacate our home and return it to its original condition.

    That’s taking out all the clothing I’ve accumulated.
    Boxing all of the toiletries I so carefully stored in the medicine cabinets.

The one benefit to moving now is that in two weeks we will be volunteering with All Hands All Hearts in Puerto Rico, and I can donate a bunch of surplus toiletries to the work site for guest volunteers to use and distribute in the community!

    Sorting through our food stuffs to decide which is valuable enough to keep in our next living state

Sometimes I really wish we were more traditional and had a home to place things.

We are toying with the idea that if our tenants in the Jersey City duplex we own do not renew their lease, we will move in there, but that would not be until March, and they have a month to decide whether they want to renew our not. No housing there is guaranteed.

So December 23, all our stuff must be gone from the current apartment we are occupying, and we have no next apartment in sight.

What will we do?

Some of our stuff can be relegated to the depths of a 3 large metal shelving units deep utility closest that is sandwiched between the ground floor apartment and the duplex we mentioned above. This may include

  • Kitchen equipment
  • Summer clothing (other than what will go to Puerto Rico (and likely stay in PR after we cover it in much from removing mold and repairing buildings for two weeks) and Orlando with us)
  • Kids books that I’ve been tutoring from

Other things will be sent to live in a storage unit nearby our central work hubs.

2) My Job is Changing, in A Huge Way I’m Not Sure I’m Comfortable With

Like nearly any other workplace in this pinched economy, my bosses seek to eliminate redundancy. I work among a fairly large household staff, maybe, just maybe too large. And if one of the roles were eliminated, perhaps we could all get by. The housekeeper would take on more house cleaning, one of the nannies could take on meal responsibilities and evening care, and me, someone who thought she had left the role of childcare in taking on a Family Assistant role, would take on childcare.

It’s more or less still a sophisticated role if I add 1.5 hours or perhaps 5 hours of childcare to my day. Kids are challenging little nuggets to figure out to raise after all.

However, that 1.5-5 hours eats into the 8-9 hours a day or logistical work that I find fascinating and rewarding. I took this job because there was potential to get my hands very dirty managing the scheduling, bills, inventory, travel arrangements, and properties of two Level C Executives, at the top of their games in their respective fields. I feel that after a year and a half in this role, I’ve gotten very good at it, and it takes every bit of a full work day to stay ahead of my employers to keep their household running well. Soo.. to avalanche my perfect little world, with the prospect of completely changing it.. I’m riddled with discomfort, while at the same time trying to guarantee my employers assurance that I’m supportive of their plans.

I don’t drink, but maybe I should.

Then again.. it’s good I don’t!