Squished

I’m currently sandwiched between a cat and a kid. I don’t know which one will turn on me first.

Do you ever feel squished in life? I don’t necessarily mean the literal squish from which I am at the moment, trying not to encroach on the cat’s space or crush the toddler with my adult-size me, but with everything life tends to throw at us, and usually all at once? I certainly know the financial squish and the emotional squish that tends to follow as you try to keep your head held high when in reality you just want to hang your head down and cry. Or the loss of a loved one followed by the loss of a large portion of your family because they chose to defend a child molester and rapist rather than the other family members who were his victims. Okay, so really, who wants to associate themselves with those kinds of people anyway? Still, when a family is not whole there is another kind of squish that occurs, which is the soul crushing kind. It’s difficult to explain if you haven’t gone through it, but believe me when I say I wouldn’t wish it upon the worst person in the world.

Right now I feel squished about moving, and not just because we’ll be moving into a smaller space with a smaller yard. I feel squished because there is no way to remedy our current situation without moving. Alas, I’m hoping that once we do move this particular squish will go away. Especially when we don’t have to listen to the loudness of cars and motorcycles speeding by at all hours of the day and night or deal with a leaking roof, moldy walls, muddy driveways, crappy electrical circuitry that isn’t up to code, windows that I’m surprised haven’t fallen out yet even though they’ve been broken for years, or a crawl space that lately has been a disgusting cesspool. Actually, just writing all that down has started lifting this squish away. Excellent…