Never Pregnant

I am in the midst of one of those 'I wonder if it's possible that maybe, maybe I could possibly be pregnant' times. I'm sure I'm not and I am trying to not be hopeful. i'm aiming for pessimism. And I'm not optimistic at all but against my will I am hopeful. I can't stand it. You see if I'm not hopeful and then not pregnant, it's no harm, no foul, but when hope creeps in and I am inevitably not pregnant it is crushing. And it feels like it's only a small degree of crushing, but it stays with you. I'm haunted by those negative pregnancy tests. I'm sure my lady time/period/crimson wave/menses will start any day now and render taking a test a non issue. It's just too bad that that won't help with my having the tiniest spark of hope.

{written on Novmeber 19th}

For the record, as of today there have been no waves of crimson but a test came back negative. And yes, it was crushing.

Officially Sick in the Head

Why I do believe I may have actually been diagnosed with Depression. Yay! And I do sincerely mean that 'yay.' I like having actual, concrete thing wrong as opposed to just wondering. the doctor I spoke with was apparently not the drug giving kind so I have a referral to have a medication evaluation with a different doctor. To be clear, the doctor today didn't come right out and proclaim the diagnosis but I feel better all the same. She wrote up a little treatment plan for ma and told me that she thinks our relationship will be short term, as in over in 6 months or less. I'm ambivalent about the length of time. At the moment I can't say whether it's a good or bad thing. Though I guess it's more in the good column that she doesn't see me having a long term need for therapy.

{written on November 15th}

The 20 Year Fight

"Shut the fuck up." I said it and upset Kyle and then we had a heated discussion about whether or not 20 years was a long time.

I told Kyle that I cannot see myself being a bus driver for the next 20 years. I'm not working this job with a retirement after 20 year view. Kyle was saying that 20 years isn't that long, it'd fly by. He has a point. But I still say 20 years is a damn long time. He took that position of perception, so that it doesn't seem that long. Since this job feels a bit like jail/hell I'm saying 20 years long.

Maybe this job will grow on me. Maybe not. Since I'm typing this at 5:18 in the morniong when it's dark as night outside and everyone in my house is asleep, I'm leaning towards not.

Musings on a Friday Afternoon

I am sitting here waiting. Apparently not getting paid for this waiting. It's hot, looks beautiful but I am hot. And sweaty. That combination leads to stickiness. I'm sweating in places I didn't know could sweat or at least never thought about sweating in. This is ridiculous. Being this uncomfortable kills any class or dignity I might have felt I had. I wish I were more of a lady, but fuck that shit. Maybe I'll be a classy broad for Halloween. I want a day in the life of someone else. A good someone else please, no prisoner or people with jobs that society deems menial. Or at least someone with their shit together. Everything I want in life with the exception of conceiving and delivering a healthy baby (always gotta make sure to say I want the whole thing lest I jinx myself and conceive and then miscarry or have a child with major health problems) are achieved through having it together. Working hard. A house, car, bills paid on time, hell, bills paid would be nice, a little spare change for fun, rainy day money, I'm-gonna-be-old-one-day money. Quality of life, man. Money can't buy happiness but it can pay the rent & the water & the electric & buy groceries. And having a place to live with running water, power, and food to eat without constant worrying that I was going to lose those things would in fact make me blissfully happy.

leaving.

I am ready to walk out of my life. Leave everyone and every thing behind. I just no longer care. At this moment I do not care at all. I'm so angry. I want to cry, break stuff, scream, walk out of this house, anything, something.

You work hard and I'm lazy, taking care of a child like I'm somebody's mother when I'm called by my first name. Thanks a lot for that. That made my night. As did throwing my depression in my face. I hope you felt like a man.

The Real Reason Pepper had to Go

Pepper is leaving tomorrow. Pepper is leaving tomorrow!!!! See my excitement. He's a fine dog, but he couldn't stay here. Not house trained, still chewing on things. It's how it was with the cat with the exception of the cat being ours. Plus we did kick the cat out of the house because he wasn't trained. Pepper is/was making my house stink. Somehow I hadn't noticed. Krystal had to tell me before I could pay attention to it. The pee smell has been steadily building up in the downstairs hallway and in the dining room. Yeah...and Blaze was not keeping up with cleaning up the bathroom behind him....

All that shit and the shit paw prints were the straw that broke the camel's back.

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This Better Not Be the New Normal

This is the current state of my house

and it's driving me bat-shit insane.

If you didn't know, that is NOT my mess. It belongs to Blaze. It stresses me out because it is not how I keep house. Were the mess a few days old, I'd only be mildy annoyed but as a few week fixture in my home?.... Beyond stressful, it makes me mad and depressed and I do not like it. I do not like it not one bit.