Wills

It's been a while. A long while since I've had time to post. Sorry about that. There's just been so very much going on. And on.
How many jobs do I have now? 3? 4? Hell; I've lost frickin' count. Not that it matters. I've not been doing any of them at my usual 110%.
'Tis hard to give anything your all; when you're so tired all the time.
Good news? I'm into my size 4 jeans again.
Bad news? I wasn't on a diet to get down a size or 2 to get into them.
Stress will do that to ya; beat the livin' day lights outa ya and turn your insides out.
Did I mention the hair loss I've been experiencing? Yep; got that, too.
Not in handfuls or anything, just noticing that I'm shedding more than the damn cat. Charley's a jealous boy. And when the Himalayan's getting green with envy because you leave more fur behind on the couch than him...well, my word; life has turned a bit on its head.
This Estate business is getting out of hand. And I'm damn tired of it. Damn tired. Executor stands for "You-are-constantly-gonna-have-to-deal-with-idiots."
Not the "Boys," not my cousins. They've been wonderful. Very supportive and cooperative. Love 'em to pieces. They've helped me keep what sanity I've been able to cling, too.
Ah, but the 2 villains in this Southern Family Gothic. Mumsie and Uncle Dear. Oh; THEM. Whatever I did to be cursed with those 2; please; I'm sorry and I beg forgiveness. Tell me and I swear, I'll never do it again.
They are liars and crooks and hypocrites.
Nothing like having someone throw Biblical phrases, etc., at you when they're blantantly flaunting their advirace; coveting; and good-old-fashioned-greed.
Gotta just sit back and love that one.
They've even gone so far as to harrass Daddy to try and get me to hand over the cash. Had to put number blocks on his phone.
Uncle Dear was just an ass about it. Ask him to stop the calling and he called the same night, the same night.
And this is the same man who always says," you have a blessed day." when you meets or leaves your presence."
Total hypocrite. Total.
And that just bites. Raises my naturally low blood pressure, too. This from the dude that was there to help hoist a Bible at me.
And so here we are. Trudging our way thru this squalid trench. That's the only way I know to describe it. The trench of death and all that goes with it.
Don't die; the hell with the pretty term of passing or some such; without a specific WILL. Just for the ones you leave behind.
Look at this way; you won't care. They will. W-I-L-L. It'll give them time to mourn you properly. It will give them TIME.
And maybe; you can help some of those behinders make less of an ass of themselves as they stay close to God.
Or make it less work for them at any rate.
Praise the Lord.
OnceAgain