Why the mess is a problem

We really borked up the yard a couple of weekends ago.

I lie. Borked up is understating the nature of the mess.

We clusterfucked a clusterfuck and then we didn’t finish putting things back together when we were done.

It’s a problem. And not just because it offends my insane need for cleanliness.

We have borked up the driveway so that a concrete truck can’t come pour our foundation slab. The tractor can’t be used to fix the driveway because it just makes more ruts everywhere because there is no solid ground, only mud everywhere.

Also? That’s a lot of standing water. The temperatures have been well above 70 lately. Warm weather + standing water = mosquito breeding ground. Which is bad enough on its own. When you add in the fact that there was untreated water running off from a leaky septic system a couple of weeks ago, you don’t get an additive effect–you get an exponential effect. The threat of mosquitos combined with the untreated septic water leaves us with the potential for an outbreak of disease rivaling the plague that killed off millions and millions of people in the dark ages. Well, either that or some sort of plague that reads like a chapter from the christian book of revelations in the bible.

So, even though I swore I wasn’t going to unfuck this, I’m slowly but surely taking a shovel to it and fixing the holes in the driveway and filling in the trenches that are full of standing water.

I’m tired, and I’m sick of lurching from crisis to crisis. I’m sick of nothing ever being finished, I’m sick of nothing ever being cleaned up. The only reason I’m actually unfucking this mess is because I am equally sick of living in an RV and want my little house built. I’m sick to death with having less countertop space than my coffee maker requires.

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