Avoidance or effective coping...

I received my property tax evaluation in the mail today.  Last year, although my taxes increased as a result, I was actually pleased to see the value of my property increased due thoughts of eventually selling ... needing to sell ... at some point, given the downturn in property values since I moved here.  However, from last year to this one, my value was increased by 22%.  Now, given that the houses on the market around me are not anywhere near the valuation, I am a bit bothered.  Plus, last year, I found out that my house was valued higher than any other on my street for two blocks.

I do have the most fantastic home in all of Fort Wayne, but I am not really interested in paying such high taxes if my neighbors are not as well.  For example, my taxes are double of both my next door neighbors.  Now, to be fair, both have let their homes run-down and have real repair issues.  However, the county does not know that.  One had her house on the market for months without any offers.  But I suspect that is because the gutters are falling off, part of the roof is missing, there is weed and junk plant overgrowth higher than the garage on both sides of it, the basement, attic, and garage are so full of stuff they are inaccessible, and there is construction debris scattered along the side of the house that is two years old.  Even so, the house two doors down is in most lovely shape, inside and out, and is currently on the market for ~$20K less than my valuation.

Money being a straining, stressful issue for me, I think I should dispute the tax evaluation.  But I am not all that eager for a battle.  And, well, I wonder if my evaluation was raised so much because of the assessor surveys.  I answered mine honestly as to the features and amenities of my home.  One of my neighbors admitted she did not so her taxes would remain low.  I suspect she is not alone in such a choice.

All that is to say ... today was another day when the mail in my box was distressing.  I miss the days (years ago) when letters and notes were a common occurrence.   Now, for the most part, a piece of personal mail is such a rare occurrence I can live off the giddiness of it for weeks.  I try to write the folk I care about regularly, but I oft wonder if such effort is worth it anymore since I rarely hear of its reception and even more rarely receive any type of response.  Apparently, communicating by handwritten missives has fallen out of fashion.  That or I am not worth the time it takes to send out a letter or a notecard.

I have also found that personal emails are few and far between now.  Maybe that is because instant messaging and wall-posting on Facebook is the now norm for communication.  It is strange ... being off Facebook is freeing for the lack of exposure to all the mean exchanges on there, but it is also incredibly isolating.

SIGH.

Late last night, I was trying to figure why Amos was emitting a stinky puppy smell when he is still incredibly soft from his bath.  I finally realized that my quilt was the source of stinky puppy smell.  Thus, I did a 7th load of laundry and fretted over next month's water bill.  By the time I went to bed, other than the things that were drying on a line, all the laundry I did was folded and put away (and all the bedding was changed).  To achieve that goal, I set timers for each part of the process to remind me that I was in the middle of doing laundry.

Lying in bed, I wondered if the day-long systematic labor was my attempt to forget that it was Father's Day.  This year, the second anniversary of my father's death was far harder for me than the one before.  The same held true for Father's Day.  For me, it is harder because the few folk in my life regularly never speak about his death, the loss, or my grief.  Not even right after he died.  I received just a single condolence card and that was it.  He was gone and out of the picture ... but not for me.  Not at all.

I wonder, was my day spent effectively coping with all the emotions swirling within or just avoiding them????