Off

A day off in the middle of the week is a lovely gift. I’m thankful to have it and thankful for the reason behind it.

Because Brian’s company doesn’t believe in doing more than the bare minimum when it comes to days off, he has to work. I’m bummed for him, but a day at home alone is not a bad thing and I plan on taking full advantage.

To illustrate:

1. EGGS. I love my eggs, I do, but living with someone who gags at the mere mention of them means I don’t make them often. Brian tells me I can make eggs any time, but knowing he’s in the other room trying not to vomit takes (some of) the fun out of eating them. So today I plan on eating TWO eggs over easy on top of buttered toast. Pretty much my ultimate comfort food. Then I will open windows and air the place out.

2. In addition to eggs, I also plan on enjoying some of my favorite music- the stuff that makes Brian want to claw his eyes out- at top volume. I’m talking a-ha, OMD, Depeche Mode, Gavin Rossdale’s Wanderlust (I’m not joking about that one- it’s an awesome album), just to name a few. I also have the (annoying to some) habit of playing the same song over and over and over and over so to do that freely today will be a gift.

There are movies to watch, a novel to work on, maybe some cleaning too, but I kind of doubt the latter will happen. I am going to have a good day.

———-

OH. I emailed my city’s public works department on Monday to thank them for the great job they did on our curb/sidewalk. I said they went above and beyond. Yesterday I received an email back thanking me for my kind words and that my email would be passed on to the director. That made me even happier. I need to do this more often, thanking people for good service. It’s so easy to complain (and I’ve done my fair share); it shouldn’t be so hard to praise.

Okay, enough. I have some eggs to make.

Miscellanea

1. The city FINALLY came through and fixed the curb they tore up four years ago when they replaced water pipes in our neighborhood. Now there is a lovely curb and the ground has been leveled and cleaned up. Not only that, but they also repaved our sidewalk and the walk leading up to our front steps. I wasn’t expecting that, but I’ll gladly take it. It looks so much better. SO MUCH. They did a wonderful job when they could have just slapped some cement down. I’m calling the public works department tomorrow to express my thanks. This makes me love my little house even more.

2. I miss my friends something awful. I need a girls’ night out and I need to laugh until my belly hurts. I miss being around the people who know me so well and love me anyway.

3. Last Wednesday marked one year since I was laid off. What a difference a year makes. My new job isn’t perfect, but I am happier at work than I have been in a long time. There is mutual respect and appreciation, room for growth and no more constant nagging fear about what is going to happen next. No one here is an ass-kisser who keeps  a master list of everyone else’s comings and goings and mistakes so that she can run off and tattle to management. Gee, I surely don’t miss that. OH. Or being yelled at in front of my coworkers during a department meeting. After being asked to speak up, by the way. Now I don’t walk on eggshells. I was laid off, but really I was set free. The last ten months have done much to repair my confidence. I AM a good and worthy employee.

4. Here’s the thing. Not being able to get pregnant IS  a big deal to me. I’m not going to apologize for that nor am I going to pretend it doesn’t bother me.

5. My boss has my copy of Constantine so of course that’s the movie I really want to watch right now. Yes, I love that movie. Don’t laugh! You can’t deny it: Keanu is HOTT.

Wishing Well Runs Wet and Dry

Yesterday’s HSG results show more damage and I got the big ol’ thumbs down from my doctor. So June’s surgery was all for nothing, but hey, at least I have a $1,500+ hospital bill and some scars to remember it by. I get two more shots at Clomid in the hopes that I ovulate on the right and that tube stays open (it looks much better than the left tube). If that doesn’t work, then my only option- in terms of treatment- is IVF. I am optimistic something will work without resorting to IVF, but I’m also realistic and know that nothing we’ve done so far- plain old sex, medication, vitamins, etc- has worked. Optimistic, yes, but also very very bitter. The end of the road might be closer than I ever anticipated.

And that’s all I want to say about that.

 

 

Do Not Explain Too Much

Beef and barley stew is bubbling away in the crockpot, clean towels are spinning in the dryer, the house is (mostly) clean and I have a Sam Adam’s Cherry Wheat close at hand. I still haven’t showered or properly dressed, but it’s Sunday and there’s no point in getting dressed if I have no plans to leave the house, yes?

It’s also November 1, which means the start of National Novel Writing Month. 50,000 words in 30 days. I first attempted Nanowrimo in 2005 and “won”; if by “winning” I mean I wrote a jumbled, incoherent-if-at-times-really-great story. Sure, lots of people think Nanowrimo is a crap challenge and a waste of time. No “real” writers do it, I’ve heard. It’s impossible to write a decent story in a month, I’ve read. I don’t care what others think, however. For me, it’s a way to kickstart creativity and get myself back in the habit of writing every day. There are stories inside of me and I want to put them on paper, even if I am the only one who ever reads them. Nanowrimo gets me back on track and it keeps me on my toes, win or lose. Sure, I’ve written a lot of shit stories, but the point is that I’ve written them. And come December, I am still writing. Remember when I said I was going to Get My Shit Together? This is part of it.

In other random news, I am going in for another hysterosalpinogram tomorrow. My doctor wanted me to try conceiving naturally after my surgery in June; four periods later, I am ready for the drugs again. However, Dr. D wants to check my tubes again and make sure they are still open. If they are not…well, everything changes and I do not know what will happen next.

The clock is ticking, loudly. It’s getting harder to stay positive when yet another month passes by and and I am no further along than I was 2 1/2 years ago.  I try not to be whiny about it- motherhood is not a right and no one is guaranteed anything in life- but I want my kid, dammit.

If You were Here

Brian just showed me an adorable Facebook video of his coworker’s babbling baby son. I oohed and ahhed- it really was cute- and then without warning, I burst into tears.

Man. This blows.

Skin I’m In

All right. This is the start of Operation Get Shit Together.

It has to be. I’m a wreck these days. I still can’t get pregnant, I’m suffering numerous ill effects from hypothyroidism despite the doubling of my medication, my mood swings from neutral to ragey to weepy to calm to anxious and back again, I can’t stop thinking about where to move and to top it all off, I just found out I somehow have chronic Achilles tendonitis. What is going on with me? I am falling apart, physically at least if not also a bit mentally. 

Oh, I’m not a walking, weeping, incapable-of-normal-human-functioning mess. I’m kicking ass at work and getting commendations, paying the bills, hosting family and friends From Away, making lists and checking them twice. I feel hollow and worn out from the effort, however. I want to feel better, happier, more with-it. I want my energy and drive back. I want to stop worrying about everything all of the time.

I have today, tomorrow and Monday off. I’m going to use this time to reflect on where I’m at and how to get to a better place. I’m a smart lady; I can figure it out.

Dear Rite Aid

Why must tampons share the baby stuff aisle? You might as well stock daggers (to stick through my heart) and kleenex there too.

Tonight

Why, on a hot muggy night in which it is raining so hard I can only have one window opened unless I want it to rain in the house so now it’s even hotter and muggier in here, do I eat Stouffer’s macaroni and cheese? I’m so used to eating the Lean Cuisine version (which is kinda like Diet Coke in that it sucks the first few times you have it, but then you get used to the blandness and life continues on its merry way) that I’ve forgotten how rich, how too rich, Stouffer’s is. I swear, I’m sweating even more now and my stomach bloat is impressive. In a bad way. I’m sweating cheese and chemicals. Stupid addictive processed foods. I know better.

My stomach hurts.

Eight years ago today, after many tearful goodbyes to family and friends and beloved places (Seattle’s Mystery Bookshop and Olympia Pizza and Spaghetti House and Pike Place Market and Seahurst Beach and Azteca’s and the list goes on), Brian and I packed my worldly possessions in a crapped-out Ryder truck and headed east. Leaving Seattle for Boston (or rather, Somerville) was the scariest thing I’d ever done in my life up to that point. Still is, actually. We might not have known each other’s middle names when we hit I90, but we knew we were madly in love and on the right path. I know people thought we were crazy, even if most of them didn’t say it to my face. I understood the trepidation and the puzzlement, but I also understood that I needed to trust my instincts. And now, eight years, three moves and one wedding later, here we are. Sometimes it still feels like it was yesterday, that first night on the road…tired and giddy and scared and oh so excited.  I miss Seattle and my friends and family and beloved places. More than I can say, I miss them. I am glad, though, that we took that huge leap of faith in ourselves and each other. I would have been forever regretful had we not.

Sechs

Because lists make me happy:

1. I’ve had hot dogs (yes, plural) for dinner twice this week.

2. My dad called me two nights ago and it was the first time we’d talked in months. Since late March, maybe? We talked for almost two hours. That’s how we do. Long periods of no contact followed by epic phone calls. He mentioned coming out in October (his first visit since I left Seattle) and that would make me happy. My dad and I, well, it’s complicated. I see an angsty post in my future. You’ve been warned.

3. I told myself I would learn to make bread from scratch in July and I lied. I lied.

3. Last month I met with my fertility doc to go over the results from June’s surgery. He checked my lady parts and then we discussed what was up. He was able to clear out the blockage in my left tube; he showed me before and after pictures and I was slightly fascinated/repulsed. There was no scarring anywhere else, a big relief considering we thought that was a possibility. My right tube was also open, another relief because that tube looked funny on the hysterosalpinogram. However, he couldn’t determine what caused the blockage, other than that it was not an infection. No PID or undiagnosed STD. Woot! No need to blame myself for whorin’ around a bit in my younger years. We decided to give my body a chance to conceive without further intervention for a couple of cycles (hahahahah) and then it’s another HSG to see if my tubes are still open and maybe some more rounds of Clomid/Ovidrel. Then he did it. He brought up IVF. We discussed it briefly, including the cost, and I made it clear I was not ready to go down that road. When the appointment was over, I sat in my car and cried.

4. My cat is getting on my last nerve.

5. My cousin and his wife are coming out here in September. It’s a little weird for me because I’ve never done anything social with him outside of family functions. Ditto goes for his wife. Actually, it’s a lot weird and I’m kind of freaking out about it. I know him best as a three-year-old who couldn’t get enough of He-Man. I see another ‘family issues’ post coming soon.

6. I’m going to body slam the next person who tells me to relax. Just sayin’.

Aha

In an effort to shake myself of the creative blahs, I made the decision last week that in addition to writing every night (the next Great American Novel. Or, you know, not), I am going to teach myself two new skills before the month is over.

I tackled the first one on Saturday and lo, I can now purl. You know how sometimes the heavens open up, the sun shines down and the birds sing? Yeah, that was me when it finally, finally sunk in. I have been knitting for some years and purling has always given me the shits. Someone would show me how and I’d remember for two minutes before I’d forget again and toss my needles aside in frustration. I have been practicing every day and while I still add an extra stitch on occasion, the technique is starting to become second nature. And not only purling, but I also even understand how to knit cables alla sudden. What the holy hell? I haven’t tried it yet, but I read a pattern tonight and it made perfect sense (also, thank God for YouTube and knitfreaks who post videos). A whole new world of knitting has opened up for me, it really has. Everyone is getting a new scarf (again) this Christmas.

Next up: homemade bread.