Laundry.
My new project, unfini.
So I've been feeling queasy in the mornings and I went off birthcontrol some time ago, not exactly sure, and I know flow is late. It's nerve racking and I've been having dreams about James and I building a house on rollers in the ocean (so you can feel the tide come in), holding a small child. I told him yesterday that I think that I could be... well you know. We took the dog for a walk and talked about it. Neither of us are ready or really want to be. There'd be no way to support something like this. We talked about abortion :/ and how it's all situational. He talked about adoption. Anyway, I guess we're waiting another two weeks to see if perhaps this is just my body getting used to being without fake hormones and the like and if not... I guess we'll deal with that when we get there. Absolutely there's no way we'd keep and raise a child right now. And yeah.
Pregnancy scares. Blah.
I stayed home with Matt last nite while James was playing his show and listened to him play Pumpkins songs all nite while painting that shelf. That thing was screwed to the wall and we were drinking 40's of mexican cerveza and I screamed at the stupidity of some fucker nailing a shelf like that to a wall. But it's nowhere near finished and if I could make a living painting furniture, that'd be enough for me right now. Matt drank more than me and we ended up just talking for two hours or so. I really like Matt. Especially when he's drunk because he lets his guard down and rambles alot and you can basically ask him anything. He wants to buy a house when our lease is up. I don't even know where James and I will be come another six months, but it's chilling to think. We could be at opposite ends of the country or even the world, really. Who knows...
I've also been having lots of panic attack scares. They'll start to come on and I'll wrestle them away only to be breathless for two hours or until I just fall asleep. Stressful. I hate the feeling of not being able to get a decent breath. And all I want is for my body to just do it and get it over with, but no, it only teases me, keeping me in some kind of boundary. I really need to quit smoking already.
How long have I been ranting about this? Seriously, slap me.
2 comments:
okay so hi.
don't even worry about your tummy. my period was all fucky for two months after kicking myself off b.c. don't worrry bbbbbbb.
anyway. that's crazy that you've been in that house for 6 months already? where did all that time go? any way, 6 months is my 19th birthday and thomas and i will have a swank lower garden district apartment with an extra mattress labeled cassandra.
adoption is torture. you read ziggy's zine, didn't you? 9 months of taking care of something that you aren't going to keep and not drink smoke pot or anything? and then the emotional attachment that grows and then gets automatically severed? yeah you would fucking kill yourself/james/the baby/all 3/whatever. but after reading cunt, there is herbs and shit you can take and ways to massage your uterus and STRONG UBER STRONG THINKING and you can induce a "miscarriage" yourself.
but don't even worry.
uh huh.
yeah, i'd get a pregnancy test thingie first & check. no freak out yet. like jazzy said your period can be a bastard at times. it's a mind gameeee. ha
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