sick of it

I'm sick of talking about Willacy. I'm sick of looking at Willacy. I'm sick of driving to Willacy. I'm sick of worrying about Willacy. I'm sick of buying paint for Willacy. I'm sick of sanding the window sills, of filling holes, of wondering how I am going to get the stone on the fireplaces and I'm especially sick of wondering if people will like it when it is done.

I am sick of worrying about September. I'm sick of the questions "Are you moving?" and "where are you moving to?" I'm sick of wishing this wasn't happening. I'm sick of being dirty all the time. I'm sick of the stomach ache I have continually. I'm sick of my blog that is strictly a reno update because that's all I do. I'm sick of waiting for the man. I'm sick of driving around getting stuff and having it take all morning.

I'm sick of it. I want my life back.

I'm not sick of Amelia though and how ridiculously cute she is. Tonight I asked her some questions based on a conversation I heard her having with her brother Holden yesterday.

me: Amelia, where does bacon come from?
her: pigs butt
me: is bacon yummy?
her: yes
me: is pig's butt yummy?
her: only when it's in bacon

I seriously love that kid and when I get sick to death of Willacy I think of her.

I wish this summer wasn't already a write off.