Maybe it was crazy to schedule moving on top of hunting season on top of a wedding on top of my big work project finally getting off the ground. Some of it wasn’t avoidable at all, and the rest of it really needed to be slotted where it was to make the other pieces fall into place, but man, is it ever getting to me.

The moving alone is huge. I wasn’t anywhere near as packed as I should have been. I couldn’t be, since we still had to live in that house while we waited for the new one to close. I didn’t have enough boxes for quite everything, so as we empty some, they go back over to be filled again. But I can’t empty most of them until we either get shelving put together or existing cabinets cleaned of the skunge in them, and how do you find time to do that when you’re physically on the move every waking hour of the day? The new house is full of boxes that just scream more work at me and the to-do list is getting longer and longer, even with Junior taking care of the lion’s share of it.

We did get help from a couple of friends on a couple of evenings to move the bigger furniture, but really, Junior’s doing it all and mostly by himself. It kills me to see him work and not be able to help, but he was able to take the week off work and I wasn’t, so that’s that. We decided against going hunting this weekend, which lets up on the pressure some. We have to be out of the old house by Tuesday and I haven’t even touched the garage or the backyard. We’ll get it done, but not with much time to spare.

We were walking through Costco last night when we realized that we still need to buy food and alcohol for the wedding, and that’s in less than three weeks. It’s going to be a major last-minute affair. I still have to order pie and meat, and find a grill that I can bring up there, as mine has gasped its last breath. I’m not entirely sure where everything that we’d already collected for the party is, after the move. I still haven’t scanned the directions into the computer for people who’ve never been there. Can you imagine if it were a formal thing, with caterers and invites and all? I would never have got it done on time, and I would have killed myself trying.

For some icing on the stresscake, we moved the dogs over to the house yesterday. Last night, while we were standing in the shop, I heard Angus licking something up on the other side of the truck. I walked around to see what he was into, and it was rat poison. Fantastic. I got him to the vet this morning, and he’s on Vitamin K pills for the next month. He has to stay isolated and calm for the duration too, because any little scratch he gets can make him bleed to death any time in the next 60 days. He may or may not make it.

I have no idea how to keep him contained when we’re gone every weekend, so he’s coming up to camp with me. He’ll have to stay in the truck and away from those nasty biting chihuahuas at camp lest they kill him, but it’s better than him getting into trouble at home when I’m not there to take care of him. Fortunately, M’s giving us her old kennel, so I can at least keep him contained at home.

There’s always one dog in your life who’s the best dog, and Angus is it. The thought of losing him over something so stupid is eating me up inside, on top of everything else. I’ve had my share of minor meltdowns over the last crazy month, but it feels like it’s getting worse. I feel like I should be able to handle this load, even if it’s tough, and I’m just not. It’s not fair to Junior or the kids and I hate myself for being grumpy with them, but I’m doing the best I can to keep all of the balls in the air. And I’m failing.