hormones win again.
honey & i ate at the cheesecake factory last night. there was a doll of a baby girl at the table next to us (and some bad parenting at the table behind us).
then there was that baby dream last night.
this really sucks.
i don’t think i’ve ever had a serious biological imperative that I couldn’t fulfill in some way. i guess that’s how this "biological clock" thing is. i know i can’t do anything about it right now, even though it’s a bitch to keep from feeling like I should.
it's as if my ovaries are screaming, “what are we doing here? just get it over with already!”
an itch i can’t scratch.
i'm knee deep in pregnant & breastfeeding coworkers. every menstrual cycle feels like some sort of failure.
am i going crazy?
funny thing is, i'm sure that if i get to, say, 35 or so without getting pregnant, i’ll be fine.
but do the next few years of my life have to be hell because of those little vomity, sleep-sucking, baby powdery people?
in the dream, i was holding one. i think he was mine. he was smiling, very happy. not overly fat. brown. i was happy.
i couldn’t get a handle on where i was or who i was with, but i was holding him and talking to someone. it was almost like an isolated image or vision vs. a whole dream sequence with a beginning/end.
i dunno. maybe it’ll happen someday.
my heart/spirit/body can't get around my ego.
don't wanna mess with my body.
what the hell are you gonna do with a kid?
i like my freedom, dammit.
well, fuck it.
since i'm clearly not pregnant, i’m getting fucked up at this show saturday. that’s all there is to it.
if i can’t get what i want, i can at least get toasty mourning it.