powerlessness.

The weather outside reflects my mood. My father keeps saying that it's earthquake weather, and it keeps echoing inside my head and rumbling out of my eyes...my core is shaking. I am under such immense stress that I feel myself tearing. Shearing. Pulling and pushing and under no control of the turmoil.
It is, to say the least, exhausting.
That's what has been so enduring lately - the lack of rest. I feel dead, all day every day. Life has become the process of putting one foot in front of the other and putting out the fire under my step. My dream after marriage is just sleeping.
There are issues with the house we're buying. Not with the actual house, not with the financing, not with anything that you would expect for their to be issues with. Nope, we were on our shit and all of that is totally handled. The issue is the sellers.
They had four goddamn repairs to do that were minor as all getout. Replace the wood under one eaves. Put a plate over the pilot light of the water heater, add a strap to it, and add a drainage pipe. It would take a shitty handyman about 4 hours to fix it, but they've waited until the absolute last day. And the tenants are still in there. Not only is my real estate agent not putting pressure on them, she's saying that I...YES ME...told the tenants they should be out by 5/11. Monday. When Sam has to be out of his apartment by Saturday, 5/9. Why would I tell them a date I never even had as an option in my brain?! As a matter of fact, I told them the 7th. As a second matter of fact, it's not my responsibility for their vacancy.
So for 2 days, we'll have to have all of his stuff in a Uhaul parked against my parent's garage and hoping we don't get robbed. 
Well Erin, that's not so bad. Why are you freaking out, you may be thinking. Well, because I have a very amazing group of friends that are willing to help me throughout the day of Saturday to move us, get us unloaded and partially unpacked. If we're delayed and don't get our keys until Monday, we'll be alone. And that means we'll be unloading alone. And that means that I'll be in so much physical pain that I may actually not leave bed and say FuckItAll to LIFE. Which I can't afford to do. Not with the school program I'm in. Not with my marriage commencing via wedding in 15 days.
So, like most humans, the fear of pain is motivating me and making me fiercely aggressive. I am gearing up to fracture and could care less what the fallout is.
By fracture, I mean: scream, cry, roar. I'm already doing it extensively. I can't bear the thought of going home, taking care of the dog I'm dogsitting, hear the shit my parents will dole out like candy, do laundry, pack my life, and ultimately have NO CONTROL over whether I will have the home I've worked hard for by Saturday.
Someday soon, it'll be better. I just wish I could exert some type of action to make it so.