Bipolar life

The highs and lows of living with me day to day is more than wife can handle. I don't have bipolar disorder, I have bipolar life. Here's the past 27 or so hours.

10 a.m. Tuesday: I get a call from temp service. The people I worked for last month want me back for a week starting next Wednesday. I'm supposed to close on the house in Fargo on Thursday. I let them know and have not had a confirmation either way.

11:30 a.m. Tuesday: I get an email from my mother. I haven't spoken or written to her since January. At that time, I had made clear how much I had been hurt by her actions toward my wife. She still hasn't apologized. She has tried guilting me about how she feels, she has tried chastising me by saying hasn't this gone on long enough, now she is threatening to call wife's mother if I don't get back to her soon. In all this, she hasn't said sorry once. She will never admit to being wrong about anything, so the only way to move forward would be for me to accept that everything is just in my head, that I was wrong, and to put it behind me. I've done that my whole life. I'm tired of just forgetting and forgiving. My last two emails to her were lengthy, heart-spilling emails that explained why I moved, why I love my wife, and how without her, I would likely not be here today. Her responses have yet to even be concerned that her son was feeling suicidal or to ask if I'm better. I've decided not to respond.

12:30 p.m. Tuesday. I have cleaned up and dressed up for my interview. I head to my wife's job with a sack lunch for us. We were discussing the morning's events when I got a call from the realtor. My uncle had been kind enough to go paint some random spots on the house so the appraiser could approve the sale. Because the buyer is using city funding, everything has to be done by next week, or the sale will fall through. However, one spot under the garage window was missed, and if it wasn't fixed by 4, the sale would be off. Brought down by a few dollars worth of primer. No one I knew had free afternoons, and the realtor had a tight schedule. I turned to twitter in panic. Then the realtor called back to say she got her husband involved and that it would get done. Although now I have to call HUD tomorrow to get the sale approved quickly. The bank has made it clear that they don't care whether or not the sale goes through.

By this time, it was 2:30. I had a major job interview in one hour. I spent the time trying to calm down, reading the job description, researching the company.

3:30 p.m.-5:30 p.m. I had a good job interview. The place seems like a good fit. My background seems good. A bunch of things during the interview made me more optimistic about it, like talking about salary, about training, about the next step being coming in to see HR.  I got homework - writing a press release and editing another. They put it on a flash drive with no mention of getting it back to them. That also gives me good feelings about it, who throws away a flash drive like that? The manager even made a Star Trek joke, and how cool is that!

Evening: I get beer and the ingredients to make pizza. Wife and I settle in for the night. We try to unwind, although I know I'll be up late working on the homework. I've been reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo out loud to her in the evenings. Sometimes I get 4 pages done, others I get 25. Depends on how wiped out she is and how anxious.

10 p.m. to 2 a.m.: Wife falls asleep. I work on the homework late into the night. I knock out a press release and edit the other piece. It's rather dry stuff, but the struggle is part of the fun.

8 a.m. Wednesday. Wake up, wife looks at what I wrote and makes some comments. I make her lunch and send her off to work. I continue to work on the homework and email it along with a thank you note.

10 a.m. I try to relax. Wife forbids me to do anything else productive today. I decide to go to a movie, my second this year. While I am there, the realtor calls to say that HUD approved the sale. She's positively giddy. I have to call a company to de-winterize the house. So much for not being productive.

Now I'm just waiting by the phone, waiting for them to call me and tell me I've got a job.