What is with all these babies everywhere? Are they driving anyone else nuts? They all seem so blissfully ignorant and happy, like nothing bad could ever touch them or their unborn fetuses. Of course I would never wish what I've been through on another human being, but sometimes an unknowing mother to be just irks me. Then I barely stop myself from spitting out stories about every awful pregnancy complication that I've ever heard of. I guess misery really does love company.
I have decided that the birth control pill is the devil. I have put up with years of sore boobs and fluctuating hormones and I hate it. Also, I occasionally bum a cigarette from the neighbor when I'm super stressed (trailer park, remember) and I then spend the next 1.5 days freaking out about blood clots. And breast cancer. And whacked out estrogen and progesterone levels. Plus, my natural cycle is 33 days and I hate being artificially forced to have a 28 day cycle instead. Obviously, I've discussed that I simply cannot afford to get pregnant halfway through nursing school so...I'm contemplating going back on the mini-pill. One hormone instead of two, and I've gotten fairly disciplined about taking the pill at the same time every day. The drawback is that the progesterone only pill lets your natural cycle do its thing so I don't get my period like clockwork. And as soon as my period is five seconds late, I basically move into the bathroom and have a whole impromptu psychological analysis on what I want the pregnancy test to read. Negative? Positive? Then I call Jer in to go over the whole thing. What does he think? Negative? Positive? Maybe I should take another test while we both think about it? Um...yeah, that was how I landed myself back on the regular pill the last time. How am I not single? Must be the sparkling personality and the B-cup.
Case study got finished well before the midnight deadline today. Hooray! It was a frustrating one to write. My mom called and invited me to Easter dinner with her and her new husband. My friend and I have dubbed this particular brand of crazy talk from our mothers the "You need medication" speech. You know, the type of conversation where one person deflects everything the other person says that could sit badly with them by suggesting that they get some help. There's another variation of this speech entitled the "You need to see a psychiatrist. Really." speech. I suppose he's not that new after a year and a half? Then she called me grumpy. Which I am. And that I could use some medication. Um, yeah probably. And then she offered to share hers, but I think she was just being antagonizing...she would never share. I think I said something sweet like, "Why because they do such wonders for you?" Just joking Mom. Love you. No one inspires me like my mother. Anyhow, she says she is coming over to help clean house in the morning. We shall see. My house is not for the faint of heart. I didn't intend a pun there, but she had a heart attack five years ago...I better get up early and start cleaning before she gets here. Moms are fun.
High hopes for the weekend. Having a Pharmacology marathon. The Man is hoping I will find time to shave my legs. We all have dreams.
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