Friday, November 30, 2007

It's going to snow?

Yeah, so, I'm spending my day off taking care of all kinds of things like errands and chores, and the like. That's what we do, isn't it? So rare to have an actual "day off" without something planned. As a matter of fact, I tend to let just about everything slide until the coveted day off, and then groan about having so much to catch up on. Sigh. Bad habit. One of many.
Have been driving around on a 'donut' since Monday; will be getting a new tire put on today. Debate with husband over one or two?
Need groceries. Badly. Mold on bread, funny-tasting milk. Have PB but no J. Want some cheese and soup. And hotpockets. 'Cuz that's what we eat around here. As much as one might believe that I am all caviar and truffles, I'm afraid to admit a macaroni casserole is about all I can muster.
Started period. 26 day cycle this time. Do I need more pads? My guess would be sure, why not. Can't have too many, in my opinion. Bet we're running low on TP, too. Dollar General, here I come!
Took the trash up early this morning under the cover of darkness. Today's ensemble included a long yellow tunic with brown leggings, a blue velour jacket, and pink fuzzy slippers. Witnessed by 8 or so earlybirds at the school bus stop next to my home. Oh yeah, I guess it wasn't as early as it felt. Damn. (hey, it was the first clean thing I could grab off the basket of unfolded clothes in my basement!)
Need to finish laundry.
Dryer belt needs replaced ASAP. Squeaking like crazy. Will probably break just when the hubby needs his hunting clothes. Crap.
Want another haircut. Didn't get the top like I'd hoped. More layers? Shorter. And my roots need done. Am I too young to just let it go all salt n' pepa like it WANTS to?
Two final papers due for Monday class. Out of inspiration. Couldn't put two thoughts together to make a point if I needed to right now. Full deck? Debatable. 52-card pick up? For sure.
Heh. Spent a good chunk of my morning convinced tomorrow was new year's eve. WTF was that all about? There's something I'm forgetting, hmmm, let's see.... oh yeah DECEMBER. Duh!
The windows we had to special order should be in today. Which means the hubby will be busy trying to get them in this weekend or next. Did anyone else notice that it's winter? Little oversight on our part. Kinda stupid, dontcha think? To be fair, we did order these weeks ago. Our existing windows aren't anywhere near a normal, standard size. As it stands, we will still have to build in the opening to make up for the empty space these won't fit. Really no reason why we can't wait for spring to install them, or at least a warm, dry day. Warmish, I should say. But, you know, a man with a project unfinished is a man much like any other, but with tools and a dream. Or something. Rocks in his head, I'm sayin'.
Oh, and by replacement windows, I mean we bought four. Not the 12 or so windows we need, just a few to start the ball rolling. Kind of like when we painted only half of the house. In a similar-to-but-not-quite-near-enough matching color of paint. Sigh.
Off to the dentist.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Update and explanation(s)

The update to this never-ending saga is thus: my fellow infertile is actively pursuing treatment! Good for her! Her MIL mentioned having to drive her to Big City General, "either today or Saturday; Monday might be too late, I'm not sure"; as the overheard conversation continued, she said, "it all depends on when she ovulates. I've got my cellphone charged and ready!" At this point, curiosity ate a hole in my boundaries and I just HAD to ask, of course. She had no details, and believe or not, I do have enough couth not to pry further. Missy had initially shared with me her struggle, and sought advice. Somewhere along the line she became very private, in that she didn't talk about it to anyone but her own mother (and husband, and physician, but you get my point). MIL said she just learned about it the other day, herself. I have to sit back and laugh, however, because now that we have two confirmed pregnancies and three others trying their damnedest to get there, too, it's almost like a fucking contest at work. My boss is fretting about how she's going to staff when everyone's out on maternity leave, and I cynically wonder which one I'll be consoling when their rose-colored world turns gray. There are those who are so convinced that trying = success, they can't possibly imagine the alternatives; they believe that "I want a baby" means nine months from now they will have one. As such, for every other person I work with, the potential five pregnancies this winter means a stressful summer/fall for everyone. Period. On the flip side, in the years prior to my own losses, I know that there is usually at least one that doesn't cross the finish line. It's just checks and balances, simple chance, the way things work. When I was expecting The Boy, there were NINE of us in my division due within two months of each other. Eight of us completed the task, including one mother delivering a profoundly handicapped twin. The 9th lost hers in the fifth month. All I'm saying is, there is room for error. Shit happens. You just don't expect it until it happens to you, and then you are always on the look-out for more shit. Hey! Here's some now!

I received an email from someone desperately bored and brimming with desire to put me in my place. I had previously assumed that my place was this blog, where I discuss my business, (and generously make it your business, too). I was cautioned to try to be a little less bitter and maybe not so condescending and brash - who do I think I am, anyway? Is my self-esteem so very high I feel like I can insult others and wish them harm?

What? (?!)

Everyone has their own battles in life; perhaps seeing past your own troubles will help you to be more accepting of others.


Egotistical... blahblahblah... hateful... blahblahblah... whatevah.

For starters, let me be clear about this one thing: my blog, my thoughts. Don't read it if I offend you. If something I say does offend you to your very core, you likely are not someone I would value as a confidant and friend. Therefore, we can cut both our losses and move on.

I will go further to state that what explodes out of me in this medium is in no way representative of my public demeanor. And yes, I am quite sure of that. Just like most of us who have lived and experienced life and interactions with real people in the real world, one must know how to behave in social situations. Everyone has two sides, and that is the beauty of blogging, journaling, or having close friends you can talk to; it allows you to get out the scary, bad, hateful thoughts with minimal risk of doing actual harm. At work I must be therapeutic, nurturing, and level-headed. At home, I might let a little bit of the bitch seep out, but then I have to clean up after myself. On here, I can dump a hot load of bitch any time I damn well please, and feel pretty fucking good about it, thank you very much. Think of it as therapy. Primal scream, anyone?

I have never wished anyone harm. I do wish others would be slightly more aware of the hell that does exist. Not "might" as in maybe, nor "will" as in absolute; just "does" It is there, it is real, and it does occur indiscriminately to anyone at any time. Be prepared. I don't sugar coat shit; I advocate for the removal of blinders in sensitive situations. Bear in mind that I have not approached an unsuspecting innocent and completely blindsided them with negativity. Very little of my reality-based information has come unsolicited. If someone approaches me with a question or comment that requires a response, I am then allowed an appropriate opportunity to share. More often than not, it is happy and positive; hopeful if you will.

Anonymous assumes that I am petty and perhaps entitled in the way I view who is deserving and who is not. I suppose I am. There, I'll admit it. To this day, I still can't comprehend "why" crack whores squeeze out kid after unwanted kid while those of us who have been to hell and back multiple times can't catch a break. In the case of my coworker - who is decidedly *not* a crack whore - (and now tells us she wasn't really *trying* but wasn't exactly preventing either) - she was "surprised" when she got pregnant and had to talk her husband into embracing the idea of another mouth to feed... I do still wonder "why" her? Why not someone who is more prepared, willing, and able to care for a new bundle of joy? Not just me, but what about Missy? She is young, healthy, stable... the randomness of it all is frustrating. I don't really feel as though my currently-pregnant coworker is less deserving, I know she has lots of love to give. What I don't want to hear are the increased complaints about finances, babysitter woes, lack of sleep, ad nauseum, while Missy and I would give our left tit for those same problems. To be fair - how many fat, stupid, poor women do you know who are aggressively trying to get (and stay) pregnant? Just seems to happen naturally, doesn't it?

So, yes, that bothers me just a little bit.

Thursday, November 15, 2007


Wow, must be something in the water...
Yesterday we learn that another co-worker is also expecting.
And, hey, guess what else!
A third and fourth are also trying.
It's been three (or four) months, now. Wonder what's taking so long? (they muse)
Hmmmm. Yes. Makes one wonder, don't it.
The only gals that aren't trying are are the ones who are too old to bother.
Then there's us. Missy and me.
Melissa and I are the "infertiles".
And people say: I wonder how Missy feels about this. She's sure to be upset/sad/enter your own negative feeling here.
Not everyone is aware of, or remembers, or has been subjected to my stories. And that is good. I am not the center of attention, nor do I wish to be. Do I want their pity? Maybe, maybe not, it's hard to pin down. What I would like, is a world with no tense situations to even make me question my own feelings. I'd like two tickets to there, please. One way. First Class. Lots of baggage.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Ready, Set, Bitch

For the first time since we lost Nick, someone in my actual vicinity is pregnant. Someone I work with, whom I have to see every day, someone who is "hormonal" as another peer thoughtfully pointed out.
Rumors had been circulating that she was "trying". Today, I got the news.
"I'm pregnant! Only about 11 weeks or so... my first appointment is in two weeks! I'm so excited! I just want to know that everything is okay."
I mean sure. Why not. At least 150 lbs overweight. Not the sharpest tool in the shed. No education to speak of. Makes the lowest hourly wage we offer. She's a good 10 years younger than me. With a two year old. Who doesn't sleep. And drives her up the proverbial wall. She complains about him so much I can't fathom how she's going to deal with a newborn.
A newborn.
Yes. Most babies live.
Just not mine.
I look at my sweet Nicholas' picture here on my desk. He is so beautiful; perfect in every way. Why couldn't I have him?
I think about this ignorant bitch getting an effortless wish granted, and I'm seething with hate.
I am so fucking sick of crying. I've got nothing left but bitter tasting tears and complete ambivalence about everything.
I wonder when I'll just get a grip and move on.