I guess I am tougher than a pioneer

SOOOO I received the loan packet in the mail on Friday. By packet I mean the entire Adirondack Park worth of milled trees. The package probably weighed close to a metric ton. You can imagine my dismay when I then realized that all the pages were thoughtfully printed in 8 font size and I had to read every last word of it. Needless to say I am not done with it yet and to be honest it drones on so that it takes me twice as long to read it because I get side tracked.
Now I have reached the dreaming stage.

I finally have been released from the nightmare stage and depression spins of wondering if it would actually be ours. I came to this point when the massive paper pack arrived….if they weren’t serious the bank would have never spent so much money on shipping and printing. Not that they are paying for it, I imagine that is also lumped in with administrative costs that seems to be holding my wallet at gun point. Never the less, I have started to have dreams instead of nightmares. Not that my dreams are all the comforting but the edge is gone.


Not that I know how to make the transition but I am going to venture to equate my experience thus far to pioneering. And in the hundreds of years separating now and then it hasn’t seemed to get any easier, in fact, maybe harder today. So the pioneers set out on a journey, a long one where the only time they had to mind was the cool weather setting in and ideal cropping season. I am on a journey, a long one where time is always up my ass. I have deadline after deadline and cold weather (hahahaha) I work right through it. Some pioneers had to ask for loans, they would venture into town adorning their finest in social garments and ask very nicely to take out a loan from the sole bank in town. When granted they would have to sign a paper and honorably shake hands. After all, your word was your bond. Today not only do you have to sign your name you have to take a lie detector test, you have to change your religion, you have to jump through the burning ring of fire, and after all that is done you have to show the bank good faith by bringing them the holy grail. The pioneers had one priority and that was maintaining their land which would provide for their family. Horseshit, I have to work 9am-5pm everyday then come home and slave to maintain a decent living space for my family and pray I see a pillow for my weary head before 1 in the morning. The pioneer would come home after a long day of working on the field to be greeted by his homemaker of a wife, two lovely well behaved children, and a primitive but still piping hot meal on the table. Since today you can’t afford a house by yourself you and your husband have to be the work hands so when you get home you are greeted by an empty space and certainly no children because you can’t afford them. Oh and that primitive meal, well let me tell you I jealous; compared to some of the last minute fast food slop I am forced to eat due to lack of time potato stew sounds divine. Shhheshhh


Alright I see I am flippin’ out again.

-Steph