Weird. Whenever I think "I don't care anymore," I get stuck on an obscure Phil Collins song that was on his "Hello, I Must Be Going!" album that I received as a birthday present when I was 13. In it, he sings something like, "I don't care anymo'. I don't care anymo-oo-oh. No mo'!"
So that's how I feel about this house. I haven't done a bit of housework or yard work or garden work this weekend. I haven't paid a penny to have anyone cut down any trees, clean out any brush, repair any appliances, or lay any flooring. I've done what I can. I don't care anymo'. I don't care anymo-oo-oh. No mo'!
I'm calling a charity tomorrow to see about getting Hubster's car towed away and donated for a tax write-off. It would be too expensive to fix, considering the car's age and mileage. I just want it out of the neighbor's driveway. I just want it gone. Hubster can deal with it when he comes home. As for me, I don't care anymo'.
I missed work yesterday because I lost my key card and no one else was going to be there to let me in. I suppose I could have called someone to meet me there, but why would I want to drag someone to their workplace on a Saturday? So I didn't go. I'll have to use vacation time to get paid for all 40 hours. Plus, I'll be swamped all next week ... but I'll deal with it. Somehow. Somehow things will get done, I'm sure. For right now, I don't care anymo-oo-oh.
I'm just about ready to drop the price to a "Greatly Reduced! Motivated Seller! Priced for Quick Sale!" kind of price, just so I can get all these house worries out of my hair. But the truth is ... moving into a new place is probably going to be even more stressful, not to mention expen$ive. So ... whether we sell this place or not, whether I'm still here when Hub gets back in the fall or not ... whatever. I don't care anymo'. I don't care anymo-oo-oh.
I'm not even in a bad mood. I just don't care. I think I'll go play some piano now. I have to get that awful song out of my head.