Sorry, this could be a bit long. Our family have had a hell of a year/18 months for a variety of reasons and we’re all at a low ebb anyway. FIL, who it’s fair to say wasn’t a particularly nice man, died last month and has left a gigantic shitpile of things to be sorted out, physically and financially. If it sounds like I’m not exactly grieving it’s because whatever latent sympathy I have is completely overshadowed by my feelings about the mess that he’s left my DW to deal with. She has health issues of her own and has been thoroughly knocked about by the events of last year already without having to deal with this fucking bollocks.
Anyway, FILs landlord announced that he wanted the house cleared by three weeks after the funeral, to which we politely and legally told him to go fuck himself. We got an extension of a month to sort things out, which is no mean task as FIL was a “flipper”; he liked to buy things at auction to try to make money out of them. Unfortunately he never actually sold anything so we’re now having to clear a mountain of -shit- things including what appears to be an anchor from a deep sea trawler (why, fuck only knows).
DW has been up there for weeks working her arse off while I’ve been at home with the kids and doing my day job. I hired a lorry the other day and we all went to shift stuff to a lock up. Three large truckloads shifted during Storm fucking Dennis and then a dangerous drive home in an empty high sided vehicle. I then drove up yesterday (200 mile round trip) and put in a twelve hour shift painting over the huge nicotine stains FIL left all over the house and helped DW continue to shift crap that we ran out of time to do on Friday. On my way home at 10pm in the middle of nowhere and with a carload of stuff I hit debris on the road and ripped a tyre open. I unloaded the boot, jacked the car up and took the wheel off. The car then fell off the jack onto its axle.
I won’t bore you with the vile language I used, or the hack I worked out to get me back on the road, but suffice it to say I’m utterly done. DW have barely seen each other for weeks and we’re both beyond exhausted. The kids have been absolute legends but are also becoming pissed off at how we’re living. I’m still having to go to a job that I don’t particularly like because I’m now the sole bread winner as DW has had to give up work to sort out FILs fucking mess. I’m actually in tears writing this but will need to get up in a minute and get back on the treadmill. Being signed off isn’t an option, as I already was for two months not long ago for exhaustion due to the unique way my employer operates. Fuck my life.