Shoes or chocolate?

This morning I woke up feeling like there was a heavy weight resting on my chest making it impossible to breathe. At first, I thought it was just the cat. After fully accepting that I was awake and the cat was nowhere to be found, I realized I was having a panic attack. It’s been years since one has decided to strike, but it makes sense that one would hit today.

I got the call last night that my grandpa has been admitted to the hospital for pneumonia. He’s on oxygen and a morphine drip. Mom has reported that his eyes are so sad and she’s really worried. This is the first time my mom has admitted how much this is weighing on her as his primary caregiver/decision maker.

I always thought it was cruel and heartless when people would say “it’s best that they passed away.” After experiencing this with my grandpa, I can see how you just want their pain and suffering to stop. This is not Grandpa’s idea of living by any means. The only thing we can do is make him as comfortable as possible and run interference to keep the crazy uncle at bay. (You know every family has one.)

All of this is weighing on me. It has now been compounded with me letting the little things get to me. Or at least, I don’t know how else to explain it.

I had been putting off a dentist visit against better judgment for almost a year. The sharp shooting pain last Thursday wouldn’t let that happen any longer. Thankfully, I have new insurance to offset some of the costs. Regardless, I’m looking at two root canals, an invasive cleaning treatment that requires them to numb my gums so they can clean under the gum lines and having a little more than $1,000 leaving my checking account.

One, I hate visiting the dentist and yet I feel like I’m always there. Even more so, I was just started to dig myself out of the credit card debt, most of which was brought on by dental treatments. The icing on top of the cake is a job I’m not exactly passionate about. I had an interview almost a month ago for a dream job and have not yet received an offer or a rejection letter. I continue to hold out hope.

Right now, my focus is on resisting the desire to shop right to make things feel better. Perhaps, you could describe me as a bit of a shopaholic. I shop to feel better. I then have buyer’s remorse, so I shop more to ease that pain. Only to get the credit card statement, which leaves me feeling crummy again. So you guessed it, I shop.

Since The Thinker, I’ve found a comfort and sense of peace that wasn’t there before. He has also managed to fill that void inside that shopping once filled. However, right now when things just suck for a lack of a better way to describe it, I still want to shop because I don’t want to tax him with my stress. And let me tell you, having a job that doesn’t exactly keep you busy for eight hours a day, but provides you with internet access is a true test of willpower.

Instead of shopping for now, I’ve turned to food. Don’t worry that will be short lived as I’m having the two root canals tomorrow. I better make the most of it while I can.