life really sucks sometimes, yeah? like, it can just suddenly turn into a giant fucking, fucked up, fuck wad at a moment’s notice. nobody ever tells you that when you’re a kid. or maybe it’s only something you know if you have a mood disorder.
a nooner, if you will. just ending my lunch break and stopping by to say that I’m pretty unsatisfied. Not with my lunch, with my life. My job, specifically. I guess my career choice (which, by the way, wasn’t really a choice, I sort of fell into it and never dragged myself out) isn’t my favorite and I want something else. Right now, though, I want a baby. Yes, still. And I’m going to do that first. It’s never too late to go back to school (and yes, naysayers, I know it’s hard when you have kids, what isn’t?), but there is a point where it is too late to have babies. Anyway, just floating this out into the universe in the hopes that I might get struck by a lightning bolt of inspiration, a THIS IS WHAT YOU SHOULD BE DOING message.
Would you still read me if I moved back over to blogspot? Because I’m not really liking this wordpress format. I’m mulling it over. Final decision this weekend.
The Husband didn’t get that job that he really thought he’d get. Which isn’t to say that he won’t get another one, but the anxiety is overwhelming. For me, not him. I mean, he’s worried, but I don’t think he feels it in every fiber of his being, like I do.
And yet, I still think I’m going to move forward with baby plans. Does that make me insane? I can pay all of our bills right now, it’s just really tight. I have health insurance. We’ll have 9 whole months after conception to figure shit out. And, who knows how long it will take to get pregnant anyway? Yes – forward march with the baby plans. Fuck it.
Moving? Thoughts? I may soon be a mommy blogger anyway, so maybe y’all won’t want to read my shit anyway. And now the glitch in my macbook that causes the screen to blink off is happening again, so I’ll say adieu, and get back to you on that.
Yo. Blogging on my lunch break again. Had to tell y’all that I tried acupuncture yesterday for the very first time and I gotta say, it’s about fucking time. I’m not sure what exactly took me so long, because I’ve read like, a fafillion studies about how it’s the best thing (the ONLY thing) to help with back pain. And have I mentioned my back pain? It bloooooows. I’ve always had low grade back pain, but about a year and a half ago it became severe. I can’t bend over to tie my shoes without pain, sneezing is a special form of torture, sleeping at night is challenging at best. My doctor sent me to 3 months of physical therapy – it did nothing except to make it worse. Which is not to say that it’s the PT’s fault, I think PT works for a lot of things, but it might not be the best place to start until you find out exactly what is wrong with a back, because all the exercises did for me was cause painful muscle spasms and sciatica. Sadly, sometimes insurance companies, including mine, won’t let you do anything else until you try PT first. Even after PT I still wasn’t allowed an MRI, which is where my PCP wanted to send me, so instead I went to the orthopedist. He x-rayed, showed me my pathetically compressed/degenerated (there’s like 30 different terms for this condition, all of which pretty much mean the same thing) disc, and said “let’s try a steroid injection”. Despite the fact that it sounded like an awful idea (hello, I work in pharmacy, I know that steroids are bad, mmm kay?), I tried it – out of desperation. Pain sucks, y’all. I can only describe it as traumatizing. Really. I’ll spare you the details (pain, sweating, wishing I was dead). And AND it didn’t really work! I had a tiny bit of pain relief that lasted perhaps 2 weeks. Since then the pain has been creeping slowly back up to intolerable and horrible. So finally FINALLY my dear sister said “YOU’RE GOING!” and since it was her birthday I had to do what she said and boy, howdy, I feel like a million bucks. No, the pain is not completely gone, but I sneezed yesterday and then danced a jig because there was no accompanying pain requiring 5 minutes of sitting very still and breathing deeply. You guys, go get acupuncture. It’s good for any and everything, or nothing. I mean it! Even if you’re sitting there right now thinking “nothing is wrong with me” (and really, aside from people aged 16 and under, who would say that?) it’s such a great experience. There’s a place here in Portland called Working Class Acupuncture – their philosophy is that acupuncture should be available to everybody, not just rich people. You pay based on what you can afford. They also believe in community acupuncture, meaning you stay clothed and receive acupuncture in a room with a bunch of other folks rather than in a medical/clinical setting. Anyway – I’m raving on and on, I know, but I should have done this a year ago, and if my raving on and on will convince someone (one of the 3 people who read my blog regularly) to go try it, then hip hip hooray. The Working Class folks have started a revolution and community acupuncture settings are popping up everywhere. Check out Community Acupuncture Network for a clinic near you.
Writing a blog post everyday is becoming a chore. Yes, a chore. I sat down here to “get it over” before my brother gets here and I really have nothing to say. I think I’m going to start writing less frequently here. Maybe every other day, or however often feels natural. I’ll write when the mood strikes, or when something noteworthy (like, say, a pregnancy) happens.
So I might not be here tomorrow…
How do you cry? Quietly? Loud sobs? In secret? Do you pull ugly faces and get snotty? I don’t. Cry that is. At least, not very often. I’m that person who lets all kinds of shit build up inside, creating a gigantic, molten, lava pit of anger, frustration and sadness that eventually erupts. Then and only then do I cry. And boy do I. All that shit built up inside there? It makes for a scene folks. River after river of tears, hiccupy sobs, snot all over the place, it’s really not pretty. And once I start it’s hard to stop. Even after the ugly part is over sometimes tears just keep silently streaming long after whatever got me started has passed. That’s what’s happening right now. Just thought I’d share. Stress on top of stress, plus stress, with a side of stress, carry the stress finally wore me down and I screamed a lot. And cried. Do I feel better? A little. Am I going to use food as a drug? Probably. Is this going to pass and eventually get better? I hope so.
What do I stress about? Money. What are most people stressed about? Money. Why is it always money? Why does money rule the fucking world? And how do we make it stop? I think I could get behind a good barter system. Maybe a hunter gatherer society, because let’s be honest, women get the good job in that world. Would you rather try to stab a vicious beast with a tiny, pointy stick while he tried to kill you, or wander around gathering nuts, berries and plants, chatting with the other women folk and looking after the babies? I think we all know the answer to that question. Sign me up. But seriously folks, capitalism? I’m not sure it’s all it’s cracked up to be (whoops – just made another government watch list. Call the FBI! She’s a communist!).
Back to the real world, I never wanted to be a TGIF person, but MAN I’M GLAD ITS FRIDAY. If I had to wake up and go to work tomorrow, I might just drive off a bridge on the way, and trust me there are plenty of those around here. My long lost brother is going to be here in the morning and I’m getting pretty excited about the weekend plans. He and I used to be besties. Adulthood, significant others, the army and living far apart have taken their toll on our relationship, but we still get along and it’s always fun when all four siblings are together. Well, it’s fun for us, not sure about everybody else. Watch out Portland, here we come.
No, it’s not a total lunar eclipse or Halley’s comet. The Husband and I get to hang out together tonight! Okay, it’s not that rare and probably nobody but us would consider it beautiful, but lately I feel like we only see each other for 15 minutes a day, whereas we used to work together – had lunch with each other every day, drove to and from the office together, had the same schedule. Then he quit his job. This week he isn’t working so when I leave the house in the morning he’s barely awake. Plus he’s had a lot of rehearsals and gigs this month so a full evening together is whoa, so awesome. Especially considering this Sunday is my sister’s birthday, the one brother who doesn’t live here is coming in for the weekend and I’m sure we’ll be busy with fun, family events (none of which involve the Super Bowl – praise The Universe that none of the men in my life are sports fans. I think we’re going to The Chinese Garden and then some place for dim sum. Mmm… dim sum… ). And a weekend filled with family togetherness = not so much with the alone time. I guess what I’m saying is I’ve missed the guy, so I’m not going to linger on this post. I promise a long, boring post soon about all of the information I’ve obsessively gathered about fertility and pregnancy and an update on The Husband’s quest to find the perfect CC DeVille wig (speaking of rare and beautiful…).
It’s Groundhog Day! And how are you spending it? Me: eating ramen and watching whatever movie I can find in the drawer. The Husband: playing a gig at a pub where he will undoubtedly get paid in food. Punxsutawney Phil: wondering why the hell all those freaks are staring at him. I could go to the gig if I wanted, but it’s cold and I’m tired. Plus, the PMS is actually in charge, and it won’t let me do anything but eat candy and have mood swings. I’m hoping this is one of the last PMSs I have to suffer for a while. In case you missed it, I would like to get knocked up sometime this year and while we haven’t actually started trying I’m hoping when we do that it happens lightning fast. Wishful thinking you say? If I’m anything like the women in my family it’ll happen in the first month. Fingers crossed!
Back to Groundhog Day, At least the little rat is predicting an early spring. Which of course, in Portland means late May instead of early June, but whatever, I’ll take it. I know I don’t have much to complain about right now because while most of the country is covered in record breaking snow and ice, the sun is out in Portland. It’s cold, but it’s not raining, and that, folks, is a miracle.
P.S. apparently PETA wants Phil replaced by a robot. I’m not commenting. Just passing on the news. I’d also like to add that all of the Groundhog hoopla happens in a little place called Gobbler’s Knob. Again, not commenting. Just laughing like Beavis and Butthead.
Lol. I’m afraid I’ll get fired. And, maybe sued, isn’t it illegal to imitate a gangsta?
In what could be considered my typical PMS fashion I had a bit of a freak out today. As those of you who stop by often know, The Husband quit his job. Today is the second day of him not working. Only two days. But I panicked. Now, it could be that growing up with my mother, constantly worrying about how she was going to pay the rent and where our next meal was going to come from had a lasting effect on me. Could be. It could also be that I’ve spent the greater part of my adult life being hopelessly broke. Occasionally, but for the kindness of family, I might have been homeless. I’m just saying. These things? They leave marks. Permanent marks, like tattoos. So when I spoke to The Husband today about what he was doing and what might be his next move and he said something about being on vacation I flipped. Slightly. And got angry. And did the whole “I have to get back to work” hang up quickly thing. Vacation is usually something one takes when one has a job, wherein one gets paid for not working a couple of weeks out of the year. Being without work equals, to me, unemployed, not vacation.
So I came home and I yelled a little. And he yelled back. Ugly words like “nag” and “irresponsible” were flung about, haphazardly. The cats ran and hid under the bed. And then we got over it. He explained that he has been an adult, on his own, taking care of things for a very long time. I explained that I’ve been broke for a very long time and finally FINALLY feel like I have dug myself out of Financial Hell. I’m no longer dangling over a giant chasm, prevented from falling into the abyss by a tiny little thread. I am at the edge of that chasm, a few steps back. But do you see how it would only take one bad financial month to push me right back over? And then I’m hanging there with no thread, just my little YIPE sign right before I fall to the bottom in a cloud of dust. Verily, I say unto thee, that marriage is difficult. Be ye careful in your choice of life-mate, and be ye ready to compromise when it is necessary. Or something like that. Because if I didn’t love this guy? HMPH. Really, I’m sure it will be fine, I’m sure he has A Grand Scheme and will have a job in no time, or at least a gig wherein he acts like CC DeVille and gets paid money to do so. Wouldn’t it be awesome if that project totally took off and he made lots of money? Especially if it happened right before I popped a baby out mah hoo-haw? Oops. I said that. On my blog. My public blog. Without warning. Sorry internet. At least I didn’t say vagina.
In other news: Today is my Grandmother’s 77th birthday. Please, if there is a God, or a Jesus, or an angel of life expectancy, can I make it to 77 and beyond? How awesome is it to be around for that much history? She was born in 1934! How many things did she witness? Granted, The Great Depression sucked, and dubya dubya tew was no picnic, but we had to read about it in books. She probably watched the moon landing on television for crying out loud. I’ve often felt like I was born in the wrong time. Do you ever get that, or am I totally nuts? Being born in the late 70s is kind of boring. We had the 80s, which obviously rocked, but the 90s? A flannel filled, angsty nightmare (which, by the way, still exists in Portland. I didn’t put my finger on it until this video went viral on Portland folks’ facebook profiles. So. Effing. True.) And then there was the Bush administration. Jesus H! Don’t even get me started! I totally could have been born in the 30s, married and having babies in the 50s. I know, I know. There were things that sucked. Polio. War after war after war. Racism. Sexism. Etc, etc. I know, I get it. But sometimes I wonder. Anyway, whoa, hell of a tangent. I talked to Grandma on her 77th birthday. She’s still raving about my wedding, and you know what? It was pretty feckin’ awesome. I wish I could eat that meal once a month.