Pregnancy & Children

A note: Nothing in this should be taken too seriously and if anything said (to the rando’s reading this bullshit) gets your panties in a wad, go do some fucking yoga while eating your cardboard cookies.

I have been unable to take my regular medicine because I made a bad decision to have sex with my husband, so there is now a parasite growing inside my body sucking every brain cell I have out of my head and promptly digesting and excreting any semblance of intelligent life. This happens when you’re pregnant, so if you’ve never been pregnant, boy are you missing out. And if you have been pregnant and you deny it, say it with me here, “I’m a liar.”

I try to deny that “mommy brain” is a thing that exists, but it’s real as I have experienced it first hand, twice now. It makes me look and feel like a bumbling idiot as I’m trying to get my thoughts out and I appear instead to be drooling like a moron that has had one too many and needs to go the fuck to bed. And I think the most annoying part is knowing that I actually have a brain rolling around in my head somewhere that begs to speak normal adult language and cannot because it’s being sucked dry by the vampire growing inside my uterus. I honestly don’t even know why I started writing this post….

 

It’s possible that I was going to bitch about something mundane as work or whatever was bothering me right before I started to type and immediately forgot about. All I know is that I feel the rage of a thousand dragons burning inside me, and I can’t even pinpoint the anger. It could be that I want one fucking minute to myself to chill and relax in peace without worry about my child throwing his diaper in the wind and rubbing his penis on everything he could find. It might be that I’d give my right leg to be able to use the bathroom without a screaming baboon trying to break down the door crying because God forbid I actually lock the door to pee alone ONE TIME. I need a minute to breathe and to do something that I enjoy doing alone without having to worry about anything else. I need a minute to be a selfish, entitled piece of shit that doesn’t have kids and can sleep in until noon if they damn well pleased because fuck responsibilities. Just one. ONE FUCKING MINUTE.

I love my slobber monster in a way that I can’t describe, don’t get me wrong. I would slit your throat and murder your whole family if you ever (tried to) hurt my Goobie. But in a world of, “Mommy, mommy. LOOK!” I need him to chill the fuck out and go tell whatever dumb shit he’s spewing to his dad instead. Because sometimes I need some air.

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Reading into Real Estate

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I decided to start reading more. I grabbed ten books to add to my Kindle collection which I don’t even really have an interest in reading. I said I’d start to read them since someone at work was already reading one of the books. I’m not sure why I agreed or even volunteered to read the series with them. I think I wanted to feel less left out and more included on things I’m not even missing out on. I’m trying to throw myself out into the world of other people and feel less like someone who doesn’t care about anyone. Although, I feel like most of the times I speak to anyone, it’s for selfish reasons. I want to tell them about myself. I don’t see blogging being any different from that other than the fact that the conversation is entirely one sided.

I enjoy being the star of the show from time to time. I don’t always want to be the one with things to be said or come up with things to do. I want to be noticed. I don’t even mind if it’s in a way that people just say with their eyes, “I realize that you’re here, and I like that that’s the case.” It sounds lame, but I don’t really know that anyone doesn’t want to be recognized. Maybe it’s that I am lacking recognition from work that is really bothering me the most. I excel at my job and get nothing for it. It would be nice to hear a “Good work” from time to time.

Instead of searching for a new job, I’ve decided to take a different approach. I’m getting a real estate license. I’m half terrified because I told myself I’d never want to get into sales. But if we get down to it, you’re always selling something whether it’s yourself to someone at a job interview — No, really. I can do this job. Hire me. — trying to get someone to go with you somewhere or really anything. Always selling. It’s a matter of what you’re selling and to whom. It’s slightly terrifying, but I think that I’ll be good at it. I enjoy talking to people even if they can be difficult. I also enjoy showing people things and being able to really help them envision things (at least, in terms of imagination and wild ideas goes) so maybe I’ll do well at this. The scariest part is not knowing if you’ll be able to make it work financially. My life is already a financial crisis, but I guess I’ll never get myself out of it if I don’t take risks.

Paint bucket

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One of the worst things is falling asleep at a decent hour, waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to roll over and fall back asleep no matter how hard you try. They say you’re not supposed to look at the clock to help or that you should get up after an allotted amount of time and go on about your business until your brain feels tired again, but the thing about that is you never know when or if you’ll be tired in time to get enough rest before you have to start your day again. It’s as if your brain needs to work some things out in the awakened state that it wouldn’t otherwise be able to do while you sleep. I always figured that sleeping and dreaming was how the brain cleansed itself of worry, but that is apparently not always the case, so here are some things that have been running around in my head.

Earlier today (or yesterday, rather) I did a whole lot of nothing. The original plan was to go to the Peach Festival, but that didn’t happen for reasons I don’t care to elaborate on. I spent a lot of my day in my large walk-in closet because for some reason, it gives me solace. My closet is like a bathroom, in a sense. It gives me a place to think, reflect, and get my shit together. I imagine this is due in large part to the fact that as a child I played in my closet, and it was comparable to the back of the wardrobe in The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. It was my space to be whatever I wanted and to go wherever I pleased. Lately, anytime I’ve gone in there, it’s to write. I don’t write anything of much substance or that I feel anyone would care to read. I write to get anything out that I don’t know how to deal with and close the book and somehow that makes whatever my problem at the moment is better as if it were to somehow magically solve it. In a way, it does. The only down side to this is that if someone invades this writing space and reads it, it leaves with an open wound the size of Jupiter because unless it’s meant for sharing or written for others, it’s too personal. It’s not personal in the sense of secrets, but in way that when I write to work things out, I’m working on raw emotion. That’s a huge part of myself that is given up and open for criticism in the wrong eyes. It’s rough to open myself up to that sort of thing. I imagine it’s part of the reason that I don’t get into design work as much as I should which leads me to my next thought.

I bought cinnamon whiskey the other day. I had the great idea of mixing it with apple juice because if we speak seriously, I’m not getting any younger and the thought of shots of cinnamon whiskey don’t really do it for me. I ended up mixing it with some apple flavoured beer someone brought over for dinner. It is quite possibly up on the top three for my favorite drinks right now. It’s delicious even if it’s not inventive or creative, but it makes me feel like it is. And in my one glass of what I refer to as “adult apple cider”, I came to conclusion that I need to be creating things. I need to be making, doing, inventing, and getting messy. All of the time, I thought I had no desire to design because I didn’t like the idea of working for people. The real reason is that I can’t take criticism very well. I do know one thing though. If I’m good enough, I won’t care about the criticism as much because far more people will “ooh” and “ahh” and my work instead of telling me how much it sucks. After figuring this out, I did the only thing I’m really good at. I went out and I spent money on art supplies and crafty things because that’s what I should be doing. Art is expensive, and the reason that’s the case is because it’s expensive to create. So I’m on a new road to adventure now.

I feel like I’m a paint bucket filled with colors that has fallen off a ladder and created a beautiful mess on the ground. Instead of having it cleaned up, it was left there because it created such a burst of color in an otherwise dull surrounding. And that’s what I am — a burst of color. I know that I can bring joy to others if I can hold my breath, create, and exhale once it’s completed knowing that I created something great. That isn’t to say everything I come up with will be a masterpiece, but I’m certainly going to keep going until I physically can’t anymore.

Quarters accepted

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I haven’t written in forever. 

Forever is a really long time. 

Maybe less than forever. At any rate, it has been a while. I can never manage to keep up with a blog consistently. That seems to also be the case with my life. I don’t think I have once ever fully committed to anything.

In all honesty, I barely made it through college with the crap degree that I do have because I wanted to give up on that too. I suppose it was the fact that I couldn’t bear the thought of throwing money away without anything to show for it. I threw a lot of money away, regardless. So now I have an art degree, which in my opinion, is a joke. Some people make a good living off of them being great at what they do. I am far from great. I think it’s time to accept what I really am: mediocre. 

That’s a pretty hard pill to swallow. Thinking about it, it has been swimming in front of my face for quite some time. If you don’t put forth the effort to accomplish anything, you are doomed to become one big ball of every boring person you’ve ever met. That is not to say that boring people are all mediocre. I’m sure there are some out there that have accomplished things that would blow your mind, but they’re outliers and for the purpose of my depressing rant, they don’t matter here. 

Wouldn’t it be great if failing at things granted you some kind of an award? Oh, I see you’ve failed to be good at sports, academics, and everything else in life! That’s totally something that has never been done before! Have this award and wear it with pride! Unfortunately, I feel like that is typically the case these days. I should be disappointed in myself for allowing me to get this far in life doing absolutely nothing. I should be more disappointed that knowing all of this, I still have no idea what I’m doing or how to get where I want to be, where I see myself. 

I know that I have the ability to get things done when it really counts. I know that I am more than capable of managing folks. I know that I am a friendly, open, honest, and hard-working person. This is all when it pleases me to be all of that. Somewhere, I lost all desire to be good at anything. Maybe it’s growing up and being bitter, seeing things in a different perspective. It’s hard to watch someone else get promoted because they’re friendlier or “don’t make waves”. It’s even harder to watch an attractive someone get a raise all because they wore a low cut blouse or have that hard body and jawline that would make a woman’s panties drop. These are things that they don’t teach you in school. They don’t prepare you for this.

What they should do is teach you how to live in the real world and start treating you different from the get go. That way, you can learn early on that life isn’t fair. I can only guess that some of this goes on in the way of racial profiling and gender roles, but I haven’t studied anything that would back me up on this. The only thing I have that would attribute to this assumption is the way that news is reported. 

But with all of this said, I think the real point is that I have no idea what I’m doing in life. I don’t know that I’m supposed to in my mid-twenties. Some people have it all figured out by now, and I really wish I was one of those people at times. I can’t complain about my current situation since where I am is, well, alright. I can say that I have a million ideas of what I’d rather be doing, but I won’t be doing any of that if I never get started. I only wish I could find it in me to quit being such a painfully mediocre person and make the dull flame inside of me burst into a fury of a thousand suns. 

Seven. Twenty Six. Ten. Twelve.

Somewhere in the middle of this old town,

A little girl was falling down.

She hit the curb & ripped her knee

Oozing blood for all to see

But no tear did fall from her dry eyes.

She was too buried in her disguise

of someone else she only wished she was

A some one for whom the town did buzz.

A town where everyone would say, “Hello.”

With a smile to her, then away they’d go

A place where being happy was always the case

And no one in a hurry to win any race.

She always sang a cheerful tune

In sunshine or under the moon.

Yes, life sure was wonderful in her head.

Too bad the blood loss caused her dead.

“What a nightmare that was,” she said.

As she winced at her cut and began to shed

a tear; A happy cry, she did exclaim!

Blaming all her sillyness on her brain.

“Such a fantastic day, a fantastic being.

I cannot believe what I’m seeing.”

The light, it seems to have caught my eye.

I am happy, and I don’t care why.”

Fitness: Week One

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I thought I’d start this to document weekly progress.

I have been trying on and off to get my shit together so I can be in great shape and do all the fun shit that someone in their 20’s should be doing. Obviously, I failed miserably because I wasn’t ready to commit or whatever. However, this time I refuse to give up.

Right now, the only thing that has changed is my diet which is probably the biggest first step. Everything is planned out for me, so I don’t have to think about it. This was probably the biggest issue every time I tried to get on the “get healthy” wagon. I have eaten out once since starting this because I was at a graduation dinner gathering. However, I made a healthy decision instead of saying “Screw it, I’m out. Blow it.” by ordering a salad with no cheese or dressing with some grilled chicken. I like to think I’m doing well food wise.

As far as exercise goes, I’m not moving much. The reason for this is because I fear that it will demotivate me faster than anything. I am terrified that I will start something that will be way too difficult and quit all together. Obviously, I don’t plan on depending on diet alone, but I am not ready to start moving yet. Currently, I swim and dance like an idiot until I’m sweaty and gross on occasion. Not exactly running a marathon or anything, but you get the point.

This has only been week one. I weighed myself this morning, and I am down 6 pounds. I know that it won’t always be 6 pounds/week, but I feel like it’s progress. Overall, I feel better about what I’m doing.

If you would like, please at least offer up some GOOD advice on how to get started slowly fitness wise. I will be going from doing almost nothing to doing something so obviously something like running/biking 30 miles/day is not something that I will be up for.

Before starting:
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Week 1:
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In a dress:
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Current dress size is 12-18 depending on the dress.

Moment of Hilarity

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Yesterday, I hit a financial low point which could only be described as inappropriately hilarious. I have been seeking a full-time job for some time now which is somewhat difficult. At any rate, I am flat broke pretty much 100% of the time. I don’t mind it too much. I have plenty of things to do at home (cleaning, crafting, baking, etc) or I can easily take a walk around the neighborhood because that’s always free, but I digress. Onward with the story!

I was at work starving because the only thing I’d eaten that day was some $1 burger from Sonic. It was all I could afford, and I had to dig around for enough change to make the $1.08 that it would cost after taxes. I managed to find another $1 of change in my purse (Go figure!) and bought some Skittles once I got to work. Now, we get these small tokens as rewards for doing an outstanding job at work. It’s all on a scale and depending on how many outstanding jobs you’ve performed, you can pick a “prize”. With that being said, I quickly used up some of my tokens to grab a Tanka stick which is basically beef jerky made with buffalo. (They’re really good. You should try one if you’ve never had them.) Are you keeping up here? So far my food for the day consists of $1 hamburger from Sonic, single serving bag of skittles, and a stick of jerky. It’s not a whole lot, but it’s what I can afford. As I’m enjoying what I have, a co-worker/friend of mine comes up to me with the normal “How are things?” conversation, so I inform her of my situation. That’s when she comes up with the brilliant idea to check our food stock to see if anything is expired. GENIUS! For those reading that don’t know, anything that is expired, we can have for free and eat at our own discretion.

I literally skipped on over to our freeze dried foods to start checking dates. SCORE! I get a few things. It’s all vegetarian and organic, but am I going to complain about free? NOPE! Afterwards, I head on over to our energy bar type selection. At this point, my manager and another co-worker see me looking at stuff and ask what I’m doing, so I inform them, “I’m really broke, so I’m looking for expired food. I gotta eat, ya know? I’m on a mission!” to which they give a friendly laugh and carry on with their business. I’m going through checking everything including things I don’t even like. Beggars can’t be choosers here. Eventually, it hits me. “Hey stupid! Check all the marked down bars. They’re probably marked down because they are expired or expiring soon.” I walk around the gondola and start looking through all our clearance bars. JACKPOT! I find over 25 bars worth of expired food which is good enough to last me through next week! I am overcome with excitement at this point and start putting everything in a bag. I ask some people if they want any of it because it’s the nice thing to do, and I am pretty sure that I really don’t need ALL of this expired food I’ve just found.

The night goes on and the store is about to close. The manager is walking around, and I let him know of all the “goodies” that I’ve found. He starts to laugh and shake his head like “I can’t believe you just spent time trying to find expired food.” I quickly remind him how broke I am and without hesitation exclaim “BALLIN’ ON A BUDGET!” to which he again shakes his head laughing saying “Stop. Just stop. You’re ridiculous.” and walks away.

April

Today is my oldest cats birthday. She is nine, so I made her a cake. Okay, I didn’t really make her a cake. I certainly didn’t make her one as awesome as the one shown! However, I did pet her and give her some cat treats and say, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KITTY!”