I don’t even like Will Ferrell that much and I’ve only seen Anchorman one time, but all day that phrase kept running through my head.
Sorry for the massive number of posts this week, it’s not something I planned. It’s just that stuff keeps happening that compels me to write, and since I’ve decided forgo a diary in favor of a blog, here we are.
Today a pregnant coworker who has three boys found out that this child is a girl. As expected, there was a lot of happy squealing and high-fiving when she arrived at work. She was so very excited. And I’m happy for her. I like this person, and I think that any woman who raises three boys certainly deserves to have a little girl. But for me… well, yeah the timing sucks. I’m trying so hard not to be fragile but the effort is exhausting.
The world does not stop turning when you suffer a tragedy. It’s a sentiment I’ve heard before, but now I’m living it. People around me are (justifiably) going through happy life events or even mundane daily routines while I sit here feeling like absolute shit. Sometimes. Sometimes I feel decent, like in those moments that I’m not thinking about last week. But I’m sorry, someone else being pregnant – even pregnant across the room – just kills me on some level. To her credit, she did not come over to my side of the office gushing and when she talked to someone who sits next to me, she whispered. Again – it’s a great argument for sharing my life story with the whole world. But it pissed me off that she had to do that. I felt like a leper; like someone who had to be treated so gently. I know, I’m being contradictory here. On one hand I get pissed when people are insensitive, on the other I get offended when people treat me with extra care. I don’t understand it myself. I’m confused and unhappy. I just wish I could celebrate with her. Instead, I’m stuck over in the corner feeling super awkward and vulnerable. Before last week we were pregnant together. Now I feel like I’m on another planet.
Carb loading is something that endurance athletes do to maximize energy storage in muscles, or it’s something that I do to prepare for carb elimination next week. Want to hear what I ate today? A bagel for breakfast, homemade mac ‘n’ cheese for lunch and a giant muffin as a snack. You’d think I would be so happy to be eating all of these yummy, oh-so-bad-for-you foods, but I feel terrible. Lethargic. Bloated and gross. I’ve been busily pinning Paleo recipes and creating my shopping list for next week, and really I can’t wait to get started. My heart isn’t in this “naughty” food week. I’ve been obsessively researching articles bashing high fructose corn syrup and even hashing out my own contribution. Hey, I’ve always wanted to become a published author – maybe this will be my avenue. At least it’s something I feel passionate about.
I’ve also been thinking about drinking a glass of wine every night but somehow once I get home, I’m never in the mood. I only drank one time – last Tuesday at happy hour – and it didn’t go well. One unfortunate side effect that I get from drinking is a 2 a.m. bout of insomnia/dehydration that usually lasts well into the early dawn hours. It’s simply not worth it. My only escape from my current crappy situation is the solace of sleep, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to take that away from myself.
I seriously hate being all “woe is me” when there are actual tragedies going on in the world right now. I remember the date of our first consult at New Hope was December 14th, which was also the day of the Sandy Hook shooting. It felt so silly to be anxious over getting accepted into a clinical trial when people were mourning the senseless loss of their first graders. Just like now, I’m feeling incredibly self absorbed and even selfish. My family is safe, I am safe. I am grateful for all the things that I have. But then… I want more. I want this one thing that I’ve wanted for my whole life and came so close to getting.
Countdown to Cayman – T minus four days. But who’s counting?