I'm out of touch AND out of time
OK, I love Hall and Oates, and the modified lyric from them describes the last week of my life. Like M says, no one says "mmm mmm mmm" like Oates. So bite me.
I've been really slacking on NaNoWriMo. I got to 12,500 words on the book and just...stopped. This is after court on Tuesday, which did not go as well as we thought it would. I'm very results-oriented, and I feel like, my personal life is jam-packed full of shit right now. So why am I putting so much time and effort into something that I can't be proud of at the end? I mean, Jesus, I'm describing my childhood home in excruciating detail. Then I'm going to describe the other houses I've lived in (and I've lived in a few). Fucking fascinating. So I dunno. I need to make a decision in the next few days though, because I will never catch up at this point if I don't. I stopped writing on Monday, so I'm five days behind.
So my tooth I had drilled to kingdom come recently is starting to ache, and I'm pissed. I'm ferociously guarding the six days off I have left, because I so want to take the last week of the year off, which will eat up four of them. Then M starts treatment next month, and I will probably have to take time off for that. I will probably need to go back to my I'm-starting-to-think-he's-incompetent dentist and take time off for that shit. Summabitch. I NEED a week off. Bad. My boss has taken two solid weeks off, and I've taken cazzo (Italian for dick). What's a girl to do?
I was starting to get extremely grumpy (yes, I am one moody biatch), so I took a two-hour nap this morning. Aaaaaah. It was like heaven. Then M and I ran around and did errands, which basically consisted of us buying stuff, and he fried us a turkey for dinner. Man alive, but fried turkey is amazing. It is so tender and juicy, and the skin's like a potato chip. Bitey the dog next door started backing like a mutha when he smelled the turkey. Ha ha ha ha. After dinner, we went to Mecca and bought a few things, while I dragged M through the Christmas display. I love Christmas stuff, but he was rolling his eyes the whole time. I then baked a pumpkin bread for my lil' bro's birthday party tomorrow. I cannot believe he is going to be 29. My mom and dad are going to have two kids in their 30s soon enough, and their 35th wedding anniversary is coming up in a few months. Life just keeps on ticking on and on, man.
So we were wandering around amongst the creepy animatronic deer and snowmen and Christmas trees and lights and wrapping paper, etc., and I was looking over at my beloved husband and thinking of where we were last Christmas compared to this one. And where we'll be next Christmas, who knows. I started getting a bit melancholy, but ya know, at least what he has is treatable. The whole fertility issue, however, has made me really, really want a baby. We went to Petco today to get some new fish, etc., and there were several puppas in the store, and I was gushing over them more than usual. I think it's a misplaced yearning for a child. I'll be 32 years old on November 28, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think: When will we have a child? Will I be able to handle it? How much will it tie me down? What will it do to our marriage? Will I be a good mom? My two best friends are both moms -- when is it my turn?
Sorry for the heavy stuff, guys. I've just been brooding and pensive and well, overthinking things lately. And I'll have a thought in my pointy head and it will fly out like a bird. I literally lose my train of thought in midsentence sometimes. So stressed. So concerned. So wondering what the future will bring now that this 40-pound gorilla of lupus has entered our lives.
I've been really slacking on NaNoWriMo. I got to 12,500 words on the book and just...stopped. This is after court on Tuesday, which did not go as well as we thought it would. I'm very results-oriented, and I feel like, my personal life is jam-packed full of shit right now. So why am I putting so much time and effort into something that I can't be proud of at the end? I mean, Jesus, I'm describing my childhood home in excruciating detail. Then I'm going to describe the other houses I've lived in (and I've lived in a few). Fucking fascinating. So I dunno. I need to make a decision in the next few days though, because I will never catch up at this point if I don't. I stopped writing on Monday, so I'm five days behind.
So my tooth I had drilled to kingdom come recently is starting to ache, and I'm pissed. I'm ferociously guarding the six days off I have left, because I so want to take the last week of the year off, which will eat up four of them. Then M starts treatment next month, and I will probably have to take time off for that. I will probably need to go back to my I'm-starting-to-think-he's-incompetent dentist and take time off for that shit. Summabitch. I NEED a week off. Bad. My boss has taken two solid weeks off, and I've taken cazzo (Italian for dick). What's a girl to do?
I was starting to get extremely grumpy (yes, I am one moody biatch), so I took a two-hour nap this morning. Aaaaaah. It was like heaven. Then M and I ran around and did errands, which basically consisted of us buying stuff, and he fried us a turkey for dinner. Man alive, but fried turkey is amazing. It is so tender and juicy, and the skin's like a potato chip. Bitey the dog next door started backing like a mutha when he smelled the turkey. Ha ha ha ha. After dinner, we went to Mecca and bought a few things, while I dragged M through the Christmas display. I love Christmas stuff, but he was rolling his eyes the whole time. I then baked a pumpkin bread for my lil' bro's birthday party tomorrow. I cannot believe he is going to be 29. My mom and dad are going to have two kids in their 30s soon enough, and their 35th wedding anniversary is coming up in a few months. Life just keeps on ticking on and on, man.
So we were wandering around amongst the creepy animatronic deer and snowmen and Christmas trees and lights and wrapping paper, etc., and I was looking over at my beloved husband and thinking of where we were last Christmas compared to this one. And where we'll be next Christmas, who knows. I started getting a bit melancholy, but ya know, at least what he has is treatable. The whole fertility issue, however, has made me really, really want a baby. We went to Petco today to get some new fish, etc., and there were several puppas in the store, and I was gushing over them more than usual. I think it's a misplaced yearning for a child. I'll be 32 years old on November 28, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think: When will we have a child? Will I be able to handle it? How much will it tie me down? What will it do to our marriage? Will I be a good mom? My two best friends are both moms -- when is it my turn?
Sorry for the heavy stuff, guys. I've just been brooding and pensive and well, overthinking things lately. And I'll have a thought in my pointy head and it will fly out like a bird. I literally lose my train of thought in midsentence sometimes. So stressed. So concerned. So wondering what the future will bring now that this 40-pound gorilla of lupus has entered our lives.
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