Happy International Comment Leaving Week! I got lots of comments on my Chocolate post yesterday, which was very exciting but also amusing. It was amusing because I didn't really think about how all the new people reading my blog would probably just read the most recent post because scrolling and clicking are hard (no judgement; I did the exact same thing on all of their blogs), and it didn't occur to me to try to tailor that post to reflect the kind of person I want new people to see me as.
As a result, I believe that everyone now pictures me somewhat like Gollum, only clutching chocolate bars instead of The One Ring.
Eh. It's not inaccurate.
Anyway. Right now I am stressed. I'm in the middle of those chaos weeks I told you about earlier in "Apparently I am a child now" (That's the one where I was crying over a bike. Remember that? Good times.). And to make things worse, I tried to dabble in a bit of escapism by playing Dragon Age: Origins and my game boyfriend broke up with me because I fought a freaking army to make him king and he now feels like he needs to marry someone of royal blood. CLASSIST PIG. I MADE YOU WHAT YOU ARE.
Oh, dear, this post is not making me look much better.
It's hard to focus on school and all the Very Important things that I need to do when I just keep thinking about my appointment on November 6. The one where I start taking drugs. I have so many thoughts and feelings about the drugs. For example, should I tell people that I am taking them? If so, all of the people or just some? I don't want anyone to try to talk me out of it. Everyone is still hung up on the fact that I am in law school, but I'm like sixteen steps beyond worrying about that.
Besides, at this point NOT being pregnant is as stressful and time-consuming as being pregnant would be. So if y'all are worried about taking my attention away from my studies you are TOO LATE. And it's killing me to just keep doing nothing besides waiting and crying and researching nursery themes online. It's been over eight months of that, yo. That's plenty.
At the same time, fertility drugs are just so not how I pictured my life. I hate drugs. I used to refuse to even take pain killers (not because I'm a hippie, just because the idea of something changing my body chemistry used to freak me out. Don't worry; once I started getting super painful periods I reconsidered that stance real quick). Am I about to put things in my body that will make me absolutely insane and give me all kinds of side effects and then not even work when all is said and done? In a year will I be broker and crazier and still completely childless?
Yeah, possibly. That's one of the potential outcomes here. But I have to try. I really do believe that. I just wish I knew how best to mentally prepare.
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Apparently I am a child now.
So, Day 29 of this cycle. Still no period. But I would bet money that it will come tomorrow, because I am PMSing hardcore.
Basically, I just cried all the way home because I hate my "new" bike. In my defense, my new bike is stupid.
My old bike (which, quick refresher, was stolen from right outside of my apartment, even though it was locked) was a gift from my dad, and it was beautiful and sea-green with a black basket made to look like it had cool vines on it. I named her Marine Cassidy and we were the best of friends. My new bike is a Craigslist find that looked in the picture like a bike that could be owned by a fully grown woman, but that in fact was clearly made for a young girl. Tweener, tops. I named her Cyndi (the i is supposed to have a heart on it; that's mandatory) because she has a stupid butterfly tramp stamp and I hate it and I hate her and that is my story. Also the basket is in the front which makes it impossible to attach a light to the front, which I did not realize, so I was biking some pretty pot-holey roads in pitch darkness. Without my glasses. And also while crying.
Ok, it wasn't just because of the bike. I am also very stressed. The Chaos Weeks are coming. I have a hearing (meaning I have to write a memorandum and prep for oral argument and meet with my client several times to make sure he is ready) and a moot court competition (meaning I have to write a brief and then write and deliver two oral arguments) and a church event for the children that I am planning (meaning I have to plan all the activities and order all the things we need and recruit volunteers and tell them what to do, and plan/deliver a short sermon) all in the next two weeks and it is too many things. Too many. And that is on top of normal law school and editing the thesis that I volunteered to edit and dealing with infertility. So in class when I found out about another surprise thing that is very big and due in two days I was rather unhappy about it. I will be so glad when October is over.
Plus, again, I'm fairly sure I'm PMSing. Or, whatever, maybe not. Because PCOS can do whatever it wants to me at whatever time, so this really could just be a thing that's happening for no reason. Or it could be pregnancy hormones. Isn't it fun how the symptoms for all three are exactly the same? I love being able to guess whether the craziness I'm going through is the first sign of my dreams come true or another bitter disappointment or pointless havoc. It is my favorite game.
Basically, I just cried all the way home because I hate my "new" bike. In my defense, my new bike is stupid.
My old bike (which, quick refresher, was stolen from right outside of my apartment, even though it was locked) was a gift from my dad, and it was beautiful and sea-green with a black basket made to look like it had cool vines on it. I named her Marine Cassidy and we were the best of friends. My new bike is a Craigslist find that looked in the picture like a bike that could be owned by a fully grown woman, but that in fact was clearly made for a young girl. Tweener, tops. I named her Cyndi (the i is supposed to have a heart on it; that's mandatory) because she has a stupid butterfly tramp stamp and I hate it and I hate her and that is my story. Also the basket is in the front which makes it impossible to attach a light to the front, which I did not realize, so I was biking some pretty pot-holey roads in pitch darkness. Without my glasses. And also while crying.
Ok, it wasn't just because of the bike. I am also very stressed. The Chaos Weeks are coming. I have a hearing (meaning I have to write a memorandum and prep for oral argument and meet with my client several times to make sure he is ready) and a moot court competition (meaning I have to write a brief and then write and deliver two oral arguments) and a church event for the children that I am planning (meaning I have to plan all the activities and order all the things we need and recruit volunteers and tell them what to do, and plan/deliver a short sermon) all in the next two weeks and it is too many things. Too many. And that is on top of normal law school and editing the thesis that I volunteered to edit and dealing with infertility. So in class when I found out about another surprise thing that is very big and due in two days I was rather unhappy about it. I will be so glad when October is over.
Plus, again, I'm fairly sure I'm PMSing. Or, whatever, maybe not. Because PCOS can do whatever it wants to me at whatever time, so this really could just be a thing that's happening for no reason. Or it could be pregnancy hormones. Isn't it fun how the symptoms for all three are exactly the same? I love being able to guess whether the craziness I'm going through is the first sign of my dreams come true or another bitter disappointment or pointless havoc. It is my favorite game.
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