So it seems that when I am stressed and when Jeremy is working lots of hours (and those things often seem to coincide), I do one of three things:
1. eat a lot
2. want to buy everything
3. read a lot
Relating to number one: more specifically, I want to eat junk. Brownies, ice cream, candy bars, chips and dip, coke, milkshakes, Lauren's cookies.... I'm not saying I always do eat these things. But oh, how I want to!
Number two: Our budget is thankful that I don't actually partake in this "retail therapy." And it's a weird thing for me, as normally, I'm not much of a shopper. But I did buy myself a bag - hot pink with stripes. Maybe being into pink is a symptom of stress, too. Maybe I'll paint our new house pink, when we finally close on it. Or maybe I'll paint our current house pink with stripes, to match my bag. I'm sure our landlord would love that, cheerful fellow that he is. (Yes, that is sarcasm tainting my words. Tainting them pink. Okay, enough pink already.)
And three: I hate to admit how much I've been reading, because you might think I have nothing to do, and thus nothing to be stressed about. I promise, I read fast. And we go to the park a lot, and in between chasing boys, pushing them on the swings, and following them down the slides, I read. Outside of those two explanations, I have no defense. I have no idea how I've managed to read this many books since we've moved here. Read this; maybe it'll explain it better (scroll down to the March 13 entry entitled "Coping"). Escapism.
Here are the books I've read since we moved:
Confessions of a Reformission Rev
Death at Gallows Green
The Quilter's Apprentice
No One You Know
The Church Ladies
River, Cross my Heart
and I'm part way through:
If this craziness doesn't stop soon, I'm going to read through the whole library. Even the books I don't like. I'm not choosy.