Hey guys, remember that March 7th period I was supposed to have?
Well, when I woke up on March 10th with still no sign of my disgusting monthly friend, I started to panic. While Justin and I had been pretty cautious during our sexual adventures, we do tend to drink a lot…and sometimes that can lead to trouble.
Here I am, eating cookie dough ice cream directly out of the container. Not just cookie dough ice cream, but cookie dough ice cream that I have smothered in almond butter. What is the celebration you might find yourself wondering. Well it’s my time to give thanks to the uterine gods for once again not giving me a baby. In just a few short days, March 7th to be exact, the tiny soldiers(?) in my uterine lining will implode(?) and then start to liquify (?) before they start gushing out of my lady bits. Read the rest of this entry
It’s weird to think about where I’ve come from, what I used to want, and what I have now that I’m an adult.
There was a time, many moons ago, when I wanted to be married and have a family. Not the lame family like you see on “mom jeans” commercials, but a cool family. One with a doting husband, smart kids, and personal fulfillment. I used to think that was the direction I was headed, but as I drove to Portland two years ago by myself hurting and alone, I knew I was letting it all go.
I had just gotten out of a long term relationship with Drew, the love of my life. He was perfect in every way but one, he was clinically depressed. We had spent six years together, two or three of them were really happy. The rest were a struggle. The kind of struggle that makes you want to give up if only you could stop loving so much.
I never could.
It’s really sappy and terrible to admit that I wasted so many years, but what it boiled down to is that you can’t help people if they can’t help themselves.
He eventually went on medication and started working on himself, but I was already immersed in my Portland life and involved with another guy. I miss Drew and will still wake up thinking about him in the middle of the night, wondering what he’s doing, or thinking.
I hope he’s doing well.