REPORT A PROBLEM
I like when the beginning of the month is on a Sunday. When it's on a Saturday, that's awkward because you have one day hanging off on the calendar. I'm pretty sure there is still a mosquito in the house. I can see him flitting around, getting ready to attack. I killed one the other day, and there was a huge cockroach too. They are supposed to exterminate the apartments this week, so that will hopefully kill them all, but everyone says cockroaches will survive a nuclear apocalypse. There is a great possibility that roach will live on, beyond me.
I think the trick to writing is to prioritize writing and be OK with not doing other things in the interest of getting your writing done. Like if you're doing NaNoWriMo, it is probably OK to not vacuum your house for the whole month. Or to eat microwave meals. It all depends on how much you prioritize writing. Most of the time, you're not going to get something done if you just go about your daily routine thinking that you'll find time for it. You have to make the time, even when it seems like you don't have any. There is time. Trust me.
Crap, I deleted that whole post I just wrote by accident. I was writing about how scary it must be to be a parent and look in the backseat of the car while you're driving and expect to see an innocent five-year-old, but in reality, you're looking at a surly thirteen-year-old who thinks she should be up front riding shotgun with you. Or to imagine a teenager but the reality is a bride in a wedding dress. Time is so short. Eighteen years really aren't that long, all things considered, especially when those years are not yours.
Haven't listened to Michael Savage in a long time. He was talking about the consequences of repealing/revoking Roe vs. Wade. Women would get abortions however they could, perhaps in unsafe ways and potentially kill themselves. I think there needs to be more education on why abortion is bad and more emphasis on how sex was your choice. Of course, rape and incest and statutory rape are not choices, but there is a different argument against abortion in those circumstances. It all comes down to education, and the people need to understand that it's not just about a knee-jerk emotional reaction.
Susan Boyle was a huge hit on American Idol some years back. She supposedly taught the world not to judge a book by its cover, and in some ways, the world has forgotten that already. We judge constantly. I think I remember hearing that it was an evolutionary advantage to judge new people that we meet. You're trying to size them up and make sure they're not a threat to you or your loved ones. It's automatically ingrained in all people, that tendency to judge. It probably takes a Herculean effort to get past that and accept them for who they are.
Eating Fiber One. I caved and bought it. Now watch me run to the bathroom every 10 minutes. I strongly think I have a UTI, so I'm going to the doctor later to check it out. I hate the smell of the lobby in my building. I can't really describe it, but the closest I can come to doing so is the smell of feet mixed with new building smell. They need an air freshener to give it a floral scent. Sometimes I wish I was one of those people who went to the gym. But if I exercised, I'd lose weight and that's no good.
Last day of the first week of the month. I just finished a disappointing book. None of the characters really did anything, but I don't think that was the point. It seemed to be a look at life in general and how the seemingly mundane or routine things we do can come together and make our life into what it is. The relationships we have, the jobs we do, all that stuff. But I didn't like any of the characters. They just sat around and brooded over past relationships. I would have done something about it if I were them.
Well, I guess that's it then. Sometimes I really dislike social media, and I feel like I might as well delete all of it, even my blog, but I like my blog too much to stop doing it. Even though I have basically stopped. I wish I could prioritize writing, but other stuff is taking precedence. I wish I didn't have such an urge to be liked by everyone all the time. I wish I could stop wishing... and that reminds me of an old song by Superchick. I miss that band. Want to hear them again, but at the same time, I don't.
It is so nice to have a cube where you can see the sunlight coming in every morning. Or at least know what the weather is like outside. I hated having a shared office with no windows. What I hated even more than the no-windows thing was actually sharing the office. There is something heinous about having an office mate. You feel pressure to make small talk in your downtime, so I kept busy all the time and tried to pretend I didn't have any downtime. Or I'd write in my journal on the pretense of being busy. That's how much I hate small talk.
I had the strangest dream. In real life, my parents were married 17 years before they had me. I'm the first child. Well, I dreamed that they had a kid when they first got married, but she got pregnant while she was in high school, so they disowned her. Much later, like in the present day, I found out she existed and got pissed at my parents for hiding from me that I had a sister. I was trying to find her, but it was really hard and I don't think I ever did. Boy, did I wake up paranoid.
I had a dream I was writing last night. I guess that means I must really want to get back into it. I also had another dream that I needed to buy baby clothes since I'm now in the second trimester. I need a comprehensive list of bare minimum stuff (which sounds like a contradiction). To buy the best value for the least money. And we need to keep tons and tons of diapers in stock. So in a way my traitor subconscious is trying to tell me what to do. I'm listening. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have written it down.
Don't tell me what to do with my car! Or I'll run you over with it! (Just a crazy thought I had.) Is pregnancy supposed to make you extra territorial and overprotective? Because I swear if anyone tells me what to do with my kid, I will rip their face off like a hormonal silverback gorilla. Or if anyone so much as touches my kid without permission, I will murder their ass.
But in all seriousness, it's just hormones making me crazy. I'd never really hurt anyone. Give them a snide look, maybe, but hurt them? No. That's too out of my league.
Yesterday, they decided to cut the shrubs outside my apartment at the same time as I was having a conference call, so I had to turn the volume up really loud and mute myself so they wouldn't hear his machine. I swear they did it on purpose, but that's just me being paranoid. It was a fun conference call, as far as those go. Usually I hate conference calls because nobody can hear me on the phone or I can't hear someone or it's too garbled. I'd rather be in face-to-face meetings, but I don't care much for those either.
We're cleaning house to get ready for baby, who is coming in about six months or so, give or take. You never know when babies will be ready. There is no convenient oven-like timer on my stomach telling when the baby will be done. No countdown to look forward to except something generic. I'm worried about telling my boss. I think that will be the hardest part, aside from actually giving birth. I don't want work to throw me a baby shower. I have felt so bad these past few weeks. They are so nice, and I'm so mean.
Stephen King has such a negative view of Christians. At least, that's how it seems from reading his books, like Under the Dome. All the Christians are portrayed to be arrogant or small-minded or just plain stupid. The only "good" Christian is a doubting Christian or a Christian in name only. I guess when you get older, you get stuck in your ways, and when you're a writer, you have certain obsessions and themes you like to write about. I can understand that, but it doesn't represent reality. I know fiction isn't supposed to, but it could be a little more fair.
Cleaned the bathroom for the first time in two weeks, I am ashamed to admit. I was stuck in the first trimester doldrums and didn't feel like doing anything. It was awful. But I think the worst of it is gone now. My energy is back and the nausea is abating. Now the baby just grows. I can't wait until the ultrasound when we can find out if it's a girl or a boy. I didn't think I wanted to know until he or she was born, but now I want to know. It will help me plan better, strangely enough.
I can't button my pants. This is going to get awkward. I think I now have a noticeable baby bump, but you'd have to be paying attention or looking closely or see me every day and notice something different. It's not that obvious yet, but to me it is. I wonder if I will have a huge baby since my husband was 9 pounds when he was born. I was 5 pounds. So maybe we'll meet in the middle and have a nice 7-pound kid. That would be manageable. I don't think there's room in my body for a 9-pounder.
I'm trying to eat more, but I don't know if I am succeeding. I just don't feel all that hungry. Maybe I will later on, but it seems like I only get hungry right before I go to bed, and that's too late. I like to wait until I'm starving to eat, but I can't really do that now, so I'm eating when I'm not really all that hungry just so I won't get starving. I'm not used to this. Hopefully in another six months I will be used to it, but by then, I won't need to do it anymore!
I'm disappointed again. I'm not sure what to do. I need to take someone's advice or get advice or woman up or whatever. This is not right and cannot continue. Changes need to be made, but I don't know what those changes ought to be yet. I need to talk to someone, but I'm trying to figure out who it is. Everything gets all messed up and I don't know where to turn. I have fewer problems laying my burdens at someone else's feet, but it is still hard. I don't naturally talk about my problems, being more reticent than most.
Jinger Duggar had her baby. I don't know why this is important. They named her Felicity, which is nice, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought about "fellatio" and I guess that makes me a pervert. But the baby was cute, and it is making me wonder more about how it will be to have my own baby. I just want to spend time cuddling her or him. I don't think I'd be able to put the kid down for a second. I think it will be fun and stressful, hopefully more of the former rather than the latter.
Now I don't feel like doing a single thing but being lazy. Crying takes a lot of energy out of you for some reason, and yet it is nice to have a good cry every now and then. Last week I cried... well, I think it was the week before last. But that was due to hormones. This is due to something else entirely. I just hope that these issues can be fixed so I can stop all this crying. I hope the baby is OK. I worry about him or her. I can't wait to find out if it's a boy or girl.
Why is intuition so easy to ignore? How often do we go against that "little" voice, even when it is screaming at us? How often do we think we know better than God and are incredibly arrogant? I hate feeling like I am arrogant, and I think now that it is my greatest flaw, even greater than the one I originally thought was my greatest flaw. How to go back to being humble? First step: accept help, and that is the hardest for me. I pride myself on being "independent" and on needing no one, but there are certain people I do need.
I had a strange dream last night (night of 7/23, I'm writing on 7/24). I dreamed I had the baby. It was a boy and he looked just like my husband did when he was a baby. Curly blond hair and the same smile. I called the baby Derek, but I'm not a fan of that name in real life. He was crying, but when I went toward him or smiled at him, he stopped crying and smiled at me. I never got to pick him up. I guess that's because in real life, I've never actually held a baby.
The past two dreams I've had, the baby has been a boy. I wonder if that means my subconscious is right. I didn't really want a boy, to be honest, but I'll be happy with whichever I get. Supposedly boys are easier to raise because they're not as sneaky as girls, but I guess it all depends on their personality and how you raise them. I want to raise my son to be a man of honor. To treat people with dignity. To work hard and praise God and be compassionate and not quick to anger. It's going to be tough.
I think I'm depressed. I looked around and didn't see much light at the end of the tunnel. I'm sick to death worrying about stuff that I can't control, yet I can't stop worrying about it. None of my "next steps" seem feasible, and I feel far away from God, like I have betrayed him with my arrogance. I want to run away from everything, just drive in one direction and end up somewhere, then come back when I'm good and ready. The thing is, I don't know when I would be ready. They'd probably get the police to find me.
We heard the heartbeat again. Still strong and healthy. Which is hard to believe because I'm not gaining enough weight. Hell, I weigh 99 pounds now, which is more than I've weighed in several years. They told me to drink these protein shakes. Ugh. I guess I'm going to have to pretend it's chocolate milk and suck it up (literally) and deal with it. They gave those to my grandma too. Then when I'm done being pregnant, I can go back to my normal "rabbit food" diet and will hopefully lose the weight I gained. I just don't like meat normally.
Yesterday was the best day of the week so far. Work was lackluster because I was waiting on things to be formatted, but other than that, it was a nice day. Things were much easier when we both worked. I'm trying to fathom how I will get through the first month with the baby. I hope someone can help me. Also trying to fathom how the budget will go. Also hoping to God that I will be able to breastfeed, but my boobs are so small that I don't think it's in the cards. Oh, well. In a way formula is easier.
I ended up having to work on a Saturday. There is something peaceful about it, though. No office interruptions or emails. Husband is gone, so he's not bothering me. I don't work on Saturday because I want to. I feel ambivalent about most things, and that is where my problem lies. People seem to think they can change my mind. I just think I can see multiple sides of an issue. Because of that, it is hard for me to pick a side. Must have something to do with being an introvert. I've thought about this for a while. Back to work.
7/30: My husband is getting weirder and weirder, but I think it is just a side effect of my pregnancy. What I feel like doing is screaming at the top of my lungs, but my diaphragm is not having it. Something to do with a hormone called relaxin. It made me feel like I was having a heart attack. I really thought I'd have a blood clot and get a stroke, but I'd be the youngest person in a while to get one. Supposedly you can have one at any age, but I'd rather not press my luck on that.
I was composing a blog post in my head. I usually do that when I really have something to write. It's been ages since I've actually written something. I think I will write that blog post tonight. It will probably make me feel better. I ought to be eating, but ever since I have been drinking those protein shakes, I've been paradoxically less hungry and more bloated. I think it's an overdose of vitamins. Husband is typing something. Probably a blog post. Every now and then, he will post something but never on the same blog twice. I don't understand it.
Last day of July! My coworker got a pizza stone and something else (what I perceive as) equally useless for her wedding shower at work. I guess it's because I don't bake. They lived together before they got married, so I guess they got all the basics already. And they bought a house, so I guess they needed stuff to fill it with. I don't know, man... I don't really enjoy cooking, and I haven't even used my friggin' crock pot or my blender yet. Husband has used the blender a couple times, mostly to make weird concoctions he won't even eat.
The Tip Jar