The last couple of months have been one of those "Someday, we'll look back on this and laugh... right...?" sort of experiences. The biggest inflection-point of Suck was the part where the condo board finally got fed-up enough about the past-due assessments to demand that Mum come up with a concrete plan for catching up, which meant weeks of stressing out about which bones we could actually disjoint from the budget to address the situation. Still not sure that this has resulted in a plan that's A), viable RE her always-variable income-situation, and that B) they've actually bought, because, as I have complained here many many times, nobody ever bothers to tell us anything. So, um, yeah. Direct stress, because Threat To Living Situation, and indirect stress, because In Living Situation With Someone Worrying About Budget, and if you don't think that's a major stressor, you've never lived with anyone who remembers when bread was a nickel. *ahem* Still Least-Bad Option, but I do find myself wishing I'd ever been in a position to exert any sort of control over the outcome of my life what-so-ever.
Another lesser but still wearying point of Suck is that the cats still hate each other, 3/4 of which now seems to be conditioning on Ren's part. (He has developed an unfortunate tendency to roll over and scream in a high-pitched voice whenever he can't get away from Snip fast enough for his liking.) He's still camped out in Mum's bedroom, and since he appears to have maxed out at a weight of 7.8 pounds he may well have to stay in there until Snip starts slowing down with age, which at 12 1/2 she's as yet showing no real signs of. (We joke that her probable cause of death will be "shootout with police".)
Ren is also a bit weird cognitively, in that he seems to have missed the developmental window where "monkeys making noises" = "I am being addressed" got handed out, because not only hasn't he learned his name yet, he's pretty much completely indifferent to most of our efforts to get his attention in any way at all, including "kitty, kitty" or "NO GET OUT OF THAT YOU LITTLE", and most cats will at least startle at that. We know his senses work perfectly well, because he can hear Snip coming from another room; he just doesn't give a rat's ass about either of his humans. (Is this why people think that "oh, cats can't learn their names"? We've certainly never had this problem before in 30 years of having them around...)
There's also been some "what fresh hell is this" medical Suck that hoooopefully was mostly just an ear infection, but is still troubling me enough that next up on the diagnostic checklist is an MRI, which I've been dragging my feet about scheduling because my Alleged Insurance comes up with a new way to keep me metaphorically off-balance about being covered every couple of months and the latest shoe-to-drop would probably be coming home from the MRI to find a letter in the mailbox saying I've been dropped as of the day before the Expensive Procedure. Because this is how my life goes.
(It also does not do anything for my ongoing Self-Esteem Issues that Mum's reaction to I need an MRI was, quoted verbatim, "That sounds expensive". Yes, Budget Woes, but seriously.)
There's been other Suck as well, but it's not my Suck to tell. In conclusion, I need a hug. And breakfast, because stupid thyroid-meds and empty-stomach rules, but mostly a hug.