Happy “two more days of this shit!” Thursday! Welcome to the week that decides that it wants to live on and on, tapping you on the shoulder every once in a while to remind you it’s still there, still fucking with you. You wake up on Tuesday gleefully skipping around the room because you’re so exhausted you think it’s Friday, and then you wilt because fuck. It’s Tuesday. You have 4 more business days of this shit to go. That’s the kind of week I’ve had.
Sorry, I’m in a foul mood. I have a Chemistry midterm today that I’m incredibly ill prepared for, and have realized this week at work as I attempt to sneak glances at my Chemistry notes while in meetings where I’m pretending to care about cartoon characters that I am not good at my job, or Chemistry. The only thing I care about at my job is knowing that I have one, which means that I basically put on my happy performance face every day at work and then scurry off to my night classes or pretend I’m writing up notes on a script when I’m really typing up and assignment. The charade is wearing thin, and I believe that my co-workers can sense something is off. I wish it were easier for me to quit work right now, but it’s impossible, and then I think about how grateful I am to have a job and a paycheck, and I get scared of losing that.
Must. Make it. To the weekend.
I’ve been so busy with work, school and life, that I really haven’t done much else but work, sleep, study, rinse and repeat. Hubs and I were in Santa Barbara for his faculty party last night so I missed greeting hoards of trick-or-treaters at our door. And by “missed”, I mean, “blissfully got to skip out on Halloween this year.” On the flip side, it’s sort of a strange feeling to have missed it. Halloween marks the beginning of the holiday season for me, and not participating in this holiday in any way, along with the crazy warm weather we’ve been having has just left me feeling blah this year. Also, word to the wise: if there’s one day per year that an infertile should stay OFF of FACEBOOK, it’s Halloween. Do I need to see your “cute little ladybug?” No thanks. Your 6 month old “Mini Me?” I’ll pass.
Isn’t this entry uplifting?
In DPO Watch 2012 news, there’s nothing to report at 4DPO. I have absolutely zero symptoms unless “extreme bitchiness and overall sarcastic attitude” means I’m pregnant with quints.