Thursday Afternoon Is Never-Ending
My motto for Thursday:
Get through today.
That's about as much goal as I can manage. :)
I'm actually feeling relatively normal today--praise the lord. I was on a bitch rollercoaster yesterday, in the front friggin' car. By evening, I'd mellowed considerably, but was on the whimper/whine merry-go-round. By the time I woke up this morning, I felt like myself again.
Being a girl sucks ass.
Ben's friends from Tennessee are in town as of last night. He came over (with dinner) last night and hung out until around 10, when he left to fetch them from the airport. It was the first night I've spent without him in I don't know how long, and I didn't care for it one bit. I'm trying not to be a big baby about this, but it sucks. Said friends are shacking up at his place until they leave Sunday evening--this is my weekend without El Nino, but I have him last night and tonight, and 3 year olds aren't exactly good company for people who don't have kids. Leaving me the odd man out--or odd mom out, as it were. I feel like the girl who couldn't go to prom because she was pregnant. Which is stupid, but it just bugs me. I asked him last night, "what if we were already living together and this was the situation--would you just ditch me and go out with them because I couldn't go out with my son in tow?" He got slightly defensive, insisting that would be a different situation entirely (I can sort of see how, but not really) and I think I made him feel bad because he's caught between entertaining his house guests and entertaining me. Granted (like he said), I get him all the time; he only sees these people a couple times a year at best. It just bugs me that I'm that easily brushed aside. I thought I was more than just "the girlfriend." Maybe I'm not.
Maybe I'm talking out my ass because I'm a jealous possessive hag?
Anything's possible.
I'm also irritated about these people I don't know and have never met being up our asses all weekend long. I don't like houseguests, mostly because I don't like being a houseguest--I always feel like I'm intruding on the space of my host(s), and it bugs me that people can readily do that without feeling awkward about it. I don't even like staying with Megan and Andrea in Florida, and I lived with Megan for five years. I'd just rather be in a hotel where I can throw my shit on the floor and use the toothpaste and not feel like it's going to bug someone. But in this instance, it shouldn't even concern me, because I don't actually live there but on Monday and Tuesday nights and alternate weekends.
I think I'm making myself feel worse about this.
He just called and asked if I wanted to go to lunch with them in about 15 minutes, after I'd already told him I was heading to Planned Parenthood in about 15 minutes. I told him in as cheerful a tone as I could muster, "no, you guys just go on ahead." Then he told me he'd bring me his vaccuum cleaner tonight if nothing else. Oh, gee--come by for 5 minutes to bring me a vaccuum and then disappear to entertain your guests. Thanks. Thanks a lot. Don't mind me, I'll just be sitting at home all night playing mommy.
I think that's what's bothering me most about all this--none of his friends (except the dysfunctional couple he doesn't hang out with much) have kids. So they don't, and he doesn't, understand the lack of mobility that comes with having kids. They don't understand the inability to just up and do whatever at a moment's notice (or none at all), and the feeling of abandonment that comes when others up and do without your kid-having ass.
It's not a big deal. I will put on my Windex shine and keep my mouth shut and all will be better in less than 24 hours.
12:42 pm:
It's amazing. You go to Planned Parenthood, fill out some forms, sit and wait in a room for 20 minutes, get a shot in the arm, and you're fully fuckable.
Good times.
I think I feel a lot better about this decision than I did in my PMS-induced haze. Depo isn't estrogen-based, so there's a lot less chance I'll go completely insane the way I did on the pill. Here's hoping, anyway.
Of course, now that I'm fuckable, I have no one to fuck for the next 24 hours. Dammit.
I'm not bothered by this, I'm not bothered by this, I'm not bothered by this.
Oh, screw it--I'm bothered by this. But I will maintain. I'm not going to let my petty jealousy and general neurosis rain on my (or his) parade.
Here's some amusement for you...
I finally found out yesterday afternoon what kind of ridiculous bullshit the ex has up his sleeve. Get this--he's going to "quit working" (as if he actually has a job) and go back to school...to teach. Um...yeah. The man is 43 years old, has a 23 year old GED, a criminal record, a pot problem, no money, and he defaulted on his first student loan 20 years ago. And I'm a bitch because I'm not being "supportive." It would be funny if it weren't so fucking pathetic. Or maybe it would be pathetic if it weren't so fucking funny.
Ben called, he and the out of towners are grilling at his place tonight and invited El Nino and I to join them. I went overboard, I think, by asking "are you sure you don't mind us being there?" God, someone stop me before I hurt myself. I'm a little nervous, though. I hate bringing my son around people who don't have kids. I always imagine they're thinking what I was usually thinking about other people's kids before (and sometimes after) I had mine.
I have to be here (at work) for another 3 1/2 hours. Christ, I hope I can make it that long.
Keep on truckin', yo.
Get through today.
That's about as much goal as I can manage. :)
I'm actually feeling relatively normal today--praise the lord. I was on a bitch rollercoaster yesterday, in the front friggin' car. By evening, I'd mellowed considerably, but was on the whimper/whine merry-go-round. By the time I woke up this morning, I felt like myself again.
Being a girl sucks ass.
Ben's friends from Tennessee are in town as of last night. He came over (with dinner) last night and hung out until around 10, when he left to fetch them from the airport. It was the first night I've spent without him in I don't know how long, and I didn't care for it one bit. I'm trying not to be a big baby about this, but it sucks. Said friends are shacking up at his place until they leave Sunday evening--this is my weekend without El Nino, but I have him last night and tonight, and 3 year olds aren't exactly good company for people who don't have kids. Leaving me the odd man out--or odd mom out, as it were. I feel like the girl who couldn't go to prom because she was pregnant. Which is stupid, but it just bugs me. I asked him last night, "what if we were already living together and this was the situation--would you just ditch me and go out with them because I couldn't go out with my son in tow?" He got slightly defensive, insisting that would be a different situation entirely (I can sort of see how, but not really) and I think I made him feel bad because he's caught between entertaining his house guests and entertaining me. Granted (like he said), I get him all the time; he only sees these people a couple times a year at best. It just bugs me that I'm that easily brushed aside. I thought I was more than just "the girlfriend." Maybe I'm not.
Maybe I'm talking out my ass because I'm a jealous possessive hag?
Anything's possible.
I'm also irritated about these people I don't know and have never met being up our asses all weekend long. I don't like houseguests, mostly because I don't like being a houseguest--I always feel like I'm intruding on the space of my host(s), and it bugs me that people can readily do that without feeling awkward about it. I don't even like staying with Megan and Andrea in Florida, and I lived with Megan for five years. I'd just rather be in a hotel where I can throw my shit on the floor and use the toothpaste and not feel like it's going to bug someone. But in this instance, it shouldn't even concern me, because I don't actually live there but on Monday and Tuesday nights and alternate weekends.
I think I'm making myself feel worse about this.
He just called and asked if I wanted to go to lunch with them in about 15 minutes, after I'd already told him I was heading to Planned Parenthood in about 15 minutes. I told him in as cheerful a tone as I could muster, "no, you guys just go on ahead." Then he told me he'd bring me his vaccuum cleaner tonight if nothing else. Oh, gee--come by for 5 minutes to bring me a vaccuum and then disappear to entertain your guests. Thanks. Thanks a lot. Don't mind me, I'll just be sitting at home all night playing mommy.
I think that's what's bothering me most about all this--none of his friends (except the dysfunctional couple he doesn't hang out with much) have kids. So they don't, and he doesn't, understand the lack of mobility that comes with having kids. They don't understand the inability to just up and do whatever at a moment's notice (or none at all), and the feeling of abandonment that comes when others up and do without your kid-having ass.
It's not a big deal. I will put on my Windex shine and keep my mouth shut and all will be better in less than 24 hours.
12:42 pm:
It's amazing. You go to Planned Parenthood, fill out some forms, sit and wait in a room for 20 minutes, get a shot in the arm, and you're fully fuckable.
Good times.
I think I feel a lot better about this decision than I did in my PMS-induced haze. Depo isn't estrogen-based, so there's a lot less chance I'll go completely insane the way I did on the pill. Here's hoping, anyway.
Of course, now that I'm fuckable, I have no one to fuck for the next 24 hours. Dammit.
I'm not bothered by this, I'm not bothered by this, I'm not bothered by this.
Oh, screw it--I'm bothered by this. But I will maintain. I'm not going to let my petty jealousy and general neurosis rain on my (or his) parade.
Here's some amusement for you...
I finally found out yesterday afternoon what kind of ridiculous bullshit the ex has up his sleeve. Get this--he's going to "quit working" (as if he actually has a job) and go back to school...to teach. Um...yeah. The man is 43 years old, has a 23 year old GED, a criminal record, a pot problem, no money, and he defaulted on his first student loan 20 years ago. And I'm a bitch because I'm not being "supportive." It would be funny if it weren't so fucking pathetic. Or maybe it would be pathetic if it weren't so fucking funny.
Ben called, he and the out of towners are grilling at his place tonight and invited El Nino and I to join them. I went overboard, I think, by asking "are you sure you don't mind us being there?" God, someone stop me before I hurt myself. I'm a little nervous, though. I hate bringing my son around people who don't have kids. I always imagine they're thinking what I was usually thinking about other people's kids before (and sometimes after) I had mine.
I have to be here (at work) for another 3 1/2 hours. Christ, I hope I can make it that long.
Keep on truckin', yo.

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