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uncleal's Diaryland Diary


random with the randomness

So, I've been having one of those weeks, where you're afraid to blog because you're afraid that the people who know you and read your blog will misinterpret your writing as a call for help. I'm worried that my friends will be calling the police and telling them either, "OMG! She's going to hang herself in the garage!" or, "OMG! She's going to kill her in-laws!" and quite frankly, I probably won't do either of those things. I mean I might. I could. I've been know to go to extreme measures before. But you know. I've got my son to think about. And I've got my unborn child to think about. And well, how could I leave my faithful readers. But seriously, if ever I was going to do those things, this might've been the week.

I know the problem. I know that being pregnant causes certain hormones to flow freely through my body, and those hormone cause my emotions to be completely erratic, uncontrollable, and extremely intense. It does me absolutely no good to know this. I still sit at my desk here at work, and think about how to kill my friend's husband. How to tell my boss that she's an unbelievably smart idiot, for whom I have learned to have absolutely no respect for. I have thought about what the results might be if I told my in-laws that they are archaic, uneducated fools, and they should leave the raising of my child to me, and just back the fuck off! already. The results could be anywhere from me being kicked out of my currently uncomfortable living arrangements, to ending up with yet another child support check coming my way, as my sweetie loves his folks very much, and may choose them over me. (note: I do not think he would choose them over me, but he could)

I have woken up in the middle of the night, sobbing. And the only practical explanation I have for the heaving sobs, is the dream had to do with nobody (especially those who should) listening to me, or caring about how I was feeling - which in the dream, was hungry, in awake life, is trapped, pushed aside, useless. And while that sounds like it may be the actual answer, I have felt this way my whole life, I have never once had a problem with feeling this way.

Lots of good stuff has been happening in my life, too. We found a house in Paradise that we can afford, that is perfect, and available. WE are waiting to hear back from the people regarding our credit check. We have 2 people willing to co-sign for us, should we need it, but we've heard nothing, so there is a little stress. Although to be honest, I am to a point where I don't care if we get this house, or some other house. I don't care if we do it all sight-unseen, or if we travel to Paradise and hand pick the place. I just want to get the Hell out of Dodge! I could pack a suitcase tonight, and leave tomorrow. I have nothing holding me back. No reason to stay. My very best friend in the whole wide world comes close, but even she with her wily ways cannot keep me here. I love her daughters, and I want to take one of them with me - really I want to take all of them with me, and of course the mom, my BFF - but even without being able to, there is nothing strong enough to make me stay here through the wet, and the cold, and the miserable. Not when warmth, and perfectness, and lazy days on the beach is calling to me.

My son continues to learn things at an alarming rate. Today, after being told that a particular picture in a book was of an armadillo, he turned the page and continued to ask about other animals. I figured he'd never seen a real armadillo, and doesn't have any cartoons he watches with an armadillo as a main character, so he had no reason to spend a lot of time worrying about this one. Then, we return to the page, and he points to the picture and says "Ar-ma-liddo?" eh, he's only 1 1/2 so I took that as perfectly pronouncing it. And to remember it after only once... I was so amazed I almost forgot to tell him he was right.

There are three resumes on my desk right now. These resumes are of girls who want to take my job. The first interview we have scheduled is for March 19th. Wouldn't it be totally awesome if we were able to go one and done with the interview process? We won't though, cause the pay is probably not good enough to entice her. But I can hope. And besides, we're at least starting the process. And believe me, the sooner we can get someone in here, the happier I am. I hate this place. I used to love it. I wonder if it's the hormones, or the fact that I'm getting out of here soon that has changed my mind? Probably both.

Do I jump around too much in my posts? Should I use those line things that go across the length of the page to separate thoughts? Does it ever seem as if two people are writing this journal? Do you think I'm having a boy, or a girl? Wanna put money on it? If you knew me only through this journal, would you want to be my friend? Or would you build a tall privacy fence around your property assuring I don't somehow contaminate your household?

Do you think I could learn how to be a better blogger? Do you think it's a class I could take? I am about to have an awful lot of time on my hands... she says dreamily... so I may as well fill it up with learning.

Anyway, I have got to get out of here. I'll talk to you all on the flip side.

2:55 P.M. - Thursday, Mar. 08, 2007


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