mal·con·tent

: a discontented person:

a : one who bears a grudge from a sense of grievance or thwarted ambition

b : one who is in active opposition to an established order or government : rebel

Otherwise known as out of sorts, on-ry. We have an expression in our house: snabby. None of these are quite the right fit for my present headspace. It’s like anxietyX10. And, anxiety isn’t really right either. It’s more this rumbly concerning feeling in my stomach that leaves me feeling distracted, distant and nervous.

It’s a combination of the reality that in 31 days, THIRTYONE days, we will not have a place to live, that I know I need to start doing things like packing & cleaning out the freezer, and that my child (my baby!) will turn four in a matter of weeks.

There are also little naggity things like the fact that everyone in our small group now has two or more children (but us). This tid-bit was easier to deny until recently, when it’s become very obvious that the Soyk’s will be adding a child to their family–any day now. Or, that despite living in Saint Joe for five years, I have closer friends from my two years in Indy.

Have I mentioned that we will be HOMELESS in 31 days? I know that we’ll not actually be out on the street–that we have family that will take us in, and could always rent an apartment, but it’s just not the same when you have no clue where the boxes you’re packing will be unpacked. Or when.

In the mix of all of this, I also know that my good and faithful God has a plan. I’m praying that Griffin and I will continue to do the next right thing, and I’m working on an attitude of gratitude.

No one wants to be friends with malcontent Kate.