REPORT A PROBLEM
6/3: We put an offer on a house over the weekend, but we learned today that they accepted another offer. My first thought was (sarcastically), I'm a millennial, I can't handle disappointment!! Mommy!! But in all honesty, this was a practice bid, so now we know more for future bids. One of the websites recommends writing a personalized letter with the offer, and I'm thinking that I'm going to be totally honest, but the more I wrote, the more smarmy it seemed. Oh well. The search is young. More houses will come up. I'm not super worried, although that house was nearly perfect.
6/3: Happy birthday to me. I'm old as dirt now, and I ain't getting any younger. I guess it's true when older people say that they don't feel older mentally but their body won't let them do the same things they used to do. It all depends on how one maintains their body. You can be 60 and be in better shape than a 30-year-old, if the 30-year-old is unhealthy and sits on his butt in front of a computer or the TV all the time. So far, I think I've done good with not giving my son screentime.
Finally caught up on 100 Words. The house search continues. You have to offer more than the asking price if the house is nice. That's what's bothering me. I can't go above a certain budget, so I would like to get something below that so I can bid higher, but we shall see if we can even find something. Worst case scenario: we have to do a month-to-month lease on our apartment if the search stretches out past the end of the current lease. Best-case scenario: we find something right away that's perfect and less than the budget.
Had to bust out the Chicago Manual of Style yesterday, and I hardly ever look at that. Just not my thing because my workplace mostly uses APA. Every now and then you get a Chicago, but it's not often enough that I have the style memorized. You get so used to a particular style, and all the others seem so strange, like they're wrong. But they're not wrong, just a different set of arbitrary choices. Editors argue over the craziest things, but now there's this push to use plain language and the person's preferred pronouns. That kind of liberal nonsense.
I don't know how people can grow up and not believe in "magic"--or at least coincidence or God or whatever. You have to keep some of that alive in your heart to be a happy adult. At least, that's what I think.
We found another house yesterday. I like this one. It might be a little small, and we may not even get our offer accepted, but it will give us a great incentive to get rid of stuff and not accumulate more. Seriously, I believe in minimalism and the whole Marie Kondo thing where if it doesn't bring joy, get rid of it.
Eh. I'm not a big fan of sex anymore. I guess NFP sucked all the fun out of it, to some extent. Constantly afraid of getting pregnant again, and the whole thing just turns me off. It's disappointing, but I never thought sex was the best thing in the world anyway. I wasn't in any hurry to have it, I can never get "ready" and all the foreplay in the world doesn't do me any good. Just makes me depressed.
Anyway. That was a long TMI post. So how is your Thursday? It will be good taking a break for a while.
It's my husband's birthday, but he went to a family reunion and left me with the baby. There's nothing wrong with that because the baby is actually lower maintenance than my husband. And he isn't old enough to make a huge mess and leave toys lying everywhere. The most mess he makes is in his diaper. Fortunately the dishes are done and they will pretty much stay done for the next three days. Today was low maintenance at work, and I got to work from home, so that was even better. Also, it's raining and I didn't have to drive in it.
6/10: Getting caught up with 100Words after the weekend. I had a terrible dream about NFP, where I was doing it backward and I was scared that I would be pregnant at the end of the month because I was abstaining when I wasn't supposed to be and doing it when I wasn't supposed to be. How nightmarish. Then I was thinking that if I got pregnant from a rape, like if I was at a conference or something and some shady fool followed me back to the hotel room, that I'd be screwed because I'd get pregnant. Weird.
6/10: But NFP isn't supposed to be the stuff of nightmares. At least, not according to the perfect people who invented it. Society just isn't cut out for people to practice NFP, and it's not cut out for people who want to ecologically breastfeed either. Breasts have become sex symbols and not symbols of motherhood, which is wrong.
My sister-in-law goes to the hospital tomorrow to be monitored. She is going to have a scheduled C-section, so if she had any fears about giving birth, they are alleviated. But I don't think I would want a C-section if I were her.
Juice Wrld sounds like Post Malone, but not exactly alike. I was listening to them back to back this morning, and you really can tell a difference. Juice sounds like he has some kind of accent that's not American and Post Malone sounds more gruff. Also, Juice's lyrics are more "pure" and there's less of that typical "rap" stuff like cars and women and money. The guy's singing about a broken heart. Doesn't get much more black and white than that. It's almost embarrassing how candid his lyrics are. Reminds me of middle school or high school but we weren't even that candid.
Someone is selling their Mercedes. I wish I had a brand new diesel Mercedes, but if I won the lottery, I would have a house built. It would be no bigger than 2,000 square feet, with four bedrooms. Also, if I won the lottery, I'd hire a maid and have her clean the house. I could win a $25 gift card from Barnes and Noble, so I better hurry up and take that survey so I can at least win a small lottery. But then I have to buy more Barnes and Noble stuff that is way overpriced.
These days, I've been angry. But yesterday I did a little better and a little worse on it. I managed not to yell at my husband, but I did speak sternly (don't recall if I actually yelled) to the baby, and it scared him. Poor little guy. I felt so bad that I started crying.
I do not do well with sleep deprivation. That is my number 1 incentive for not having another baby. I had the hardest time handling those first three months. They were HELL. ON. EARTH.
But I did manage to think of God while I had the anger episode.
The quote of the day is "Don't think, just do" from Horace, and I'm thinking that Nike borrowed that from him. Just do it. I remember that, but sometimes it is foolish to just do it. Except when buying a house these days. You have to jump on stuff. Just do it, because the damn thing might be off the market in less than 24 hours. I am very stressed out by all this, and there is less and less stuff coming on the market every day. There are fixer uppers, but I won't get one of those unless I get really desperate.
6/17: I am so bad at giving gifts. I hate giving gifts unless someone specifically tells me what they want. I don't like guessing and ending up getting them something they don't need. Gift receipts are very important. Always get a gift receipt. Like, Father's Day. I asked my husband what he wanted to do and where he wanted to go, and he told me and we did that. No waste, no guessing games. I told everyone I don't want anything for Christmas because I have no room to put stuff. I don't want stuff, don't need it, have no desire.
6/17: Still trying to play catch-up with 100Words. I really wish they'd remake this site already, but I guess it's a low-hanging fruit. The thing with low-hanging fruit is that they never actually drop. Or if they do, no one notices. At work, we've been trying to do this style guide update for over a year now, and it's just been the low-hanging fruit, so we never get to it because of the other, more pressing deadlines. So I guess it's sitting at the bottom of the tree, rotting away. Oh, my kiwis are almost ripe!
6/17: At work, we are supposed to be the master of our own careers and our own destinies. That's hard to do when the work is so dependent on the whims of the federal government and other forces outside of yourself. A project that you've staked your goal on could end unexpectedly, but highly unlikely that it ends before the contract date is up. Either way, it's still volatile and not entirely up to you. Fortunately, the managers understand that and are kind. They ask about your personal life before going off into work talk. Like how are the kids, that kind of thing.
One of the great triumphs of NFP is that you can predict, within a couple days of accuracy, when your next period will start. I predicted it exactly this time. I think that since I got pregnant, cramps have been milder and periods have gotten more manageable overall. Luteal phase is longer, even though they said it wouldn't change. It used to be 12 days. Now it's something like 13 or 14, depending on which day you count from. I heard that longer is better. Too short, and you can't sustain a pregnancy. A lot of women have that problem.
Does "low fidelity" mean that it is less true to its intent? I saw that in a 100Words post on the homepage and thought about it for two seconds.
Didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I feel like I'm getting burned out. I could win a free PTO day because I did the employee survey at work, but I never win any of those giveaways. Even winning a $100 gift card would be nice. Or even some stuff at the company store. I don't know what I would get, though. Maybe a T-shirt? Something for the baby?
I posted the first chapter of one of my favorite stories to my blog. I can't believe I'm actually posting a story after such a long time. It is an old story, but it's something. This is actually a trial run of my bigger story that will get its own blog one day. So we shall see how this whole serial approach goes. It worked before, but my audience may not be the same, so it may not work the same way again. Oh, well. We shall see. And no matter what, it makes me happy. That's what matters.
I still have that Billie Eilish song stuck in my head. "Bury a Friend." To be honest, the lyrics could almost be reminiscent of an abortion and the person who had it regretting it because her memory of the baby is haunting her. "What do you want from me, why don't you run from me, when we all fall asleep, where do we go?" It all makes sense if you think about it. But of course, the pro-abortion people would hate it. Man, I'd break down all these dumb glass ceilings if I was a music video director. What a fun job.
Finally going to get rid of some old notebooks. I hope people take them. If not, then, oh well. I'll still be stuck with them. Or we can donate them to schools for kids who can use them to take notes. Or college students. Or whoever. I think we need to wait on the housing search until it calms down some. Maybe in the winter would be a better time. My son will be older and hopefully walking around or at least crawling. I want to see him take his first steps in our first house. But I guess the apartment would be good too.
6/24: It is painful to realize that your husband loves his mother more than you and always will, and will listen to her more than you. I guess it depends on the personality type. The squeaky wheel gets the grease, right? Well, for sure, she is the squeaky wheel. I try not to want anything or be too demanding or ask for anything or even be accompanied anywhere. It's weird that the first person we turn to in the relationship if we have issues is not each other but our parents. It should not be that way. We never separated.
6/24: Put an offer on a house. The seller countered. I can't go any higher and I honestly don't care enough about this particular house to negotiate. I don't want to lose over a thousand dollars on inspections if something doesn't check out. Just not worthwhile to me. I would rather have a townhouse so we don't have a yard to deal with. It gets to be too much. My husband's not handy. I could learn to be handy, but I don't have the physical strength to do those "handy" tasks. I'll learn how to repair cars but not lift cars.
I feel really low now, but it's not that big a deal. I was supposed to go to a therapist but I don't want to. There's no real reason for it. Every time I go, I end up feeling like my problems are so trivial that I shouldn't whine about it or, that I should figure it out and shut up. People have much worse issues than me and never complain. I need to be one of them and stop bothering a therapist with my petty crap. They say that venting begets more venting, so I need to stop the venting.
Well, the babies are going to be born in a few hours. It must have felt weird to have an actual date and time when you were going to deliver. I think I prefer the way mine happened. Randomly, with little warning, although I should have known when I ran up those stairs at the hematology office that I just messed it all up. I remember saying to my coworkers that I wanted one more weekend! But I got Friday night and that was it. Went into labor about 11:30, then he was born Saturday afternoon. Long labor, but it didn't feel long.
Yesterday I was going through my husband's collection of notebooks, in which he writes a page or two then goes on to the next one, leaving a ton of notebooks that are virtually unused. I ripped out all the used pages and tossed them to the side. Now I have a ton of notebooks and not enough ideas, time, and energy to fill them. But one of these days I will. I started giving them away to people at work, whoever wants them. Not many people have taken one. I guess they have a lack of ideas, time, and energy, too.
Only two more minutes until I'm supposed to start work. Working from home has become distracting ever since I had the baby. Of course, he doesn't understand that I have a conference call and it needs to be quiet. But that's OK. If they hear baby noises in the background, they will understand. People who don't like babies and children confuse me. We were all that age. Someone was patient with us. Why can't you return the favor and be patient with the next generation? I guess it's because they don't remember how legit hard it was to be a baby.
I have that Twenty One Pilots song "Chlorine" stuck in my head. At first I thought he was saying "sipping on straight glory" but that may be a Freudian slip or wishful thinking. The Internet at work didn't want to work today, so I had to restart and unplug and re-plug the computer several times for things to work, and it still all doesn't work, so a call to the IT people may be in my future. It's connecting to Wifi when it should be connecting to the network.
I'm depressed. I don't know why. Thinking about the weekend.
7/1: I thought I was immune to the computer issue going around my work, but it happened to me on Friday and today. At least I know how to fix it without bugging the help desk. They are trying to fix it, but I don't know why these issues keep popping up with a system that otherwise works. Ghosts in the machine, I suppose.
June is over. It was a decent month. I remember that I used to think of months as good based on how easy they were. My definition of "easy" has changed a lot since then.
7/1: I have no meetings this entire week! That makes me happy. It's because of the 4th of July holiday and nobody's supposed to be here. My dad visited my nieces at the hospital (newborns, just last week) and asked my sister-in-law the most embarrassing question: "So when are you going to have more?" My dad doesn't get out enough, so when he does, he asks the most embarrassing questions. I think he ought to work as a greeter at Walmart, so he can be that charmingly cute old man who doesn't know as much as he used to.
The Tip Jar