Only now, with rose wine.
Also, I've been sailing constantly.
And I've ordered some nonsense supplements online. Because I'm a chump.
That's all.
Wednesday, July 25, 2018
Thursday, July 12, 2018
Sadness Continues
It waxes and wanes. These days it's waxing. I don't know why. Hormones? Time? I don't know.
My sister in law was here for an entire week, which is about a week and a half too long. The first night she was here, I was exhausted after a stressful day of houseguest tending, and I was loading the dishwasher for the second of what felt like two dozen times over the course of the week, and she was going on and on about the baby shower for the third in their assortment of four siblings, a well-meaning doofus with no college education or professional aspirations that I know of. They're having a baby in a matter of months.
I was invited to the shower. The invitation arrived either on or around the day I found out one of - which one? Who knows? - my IVF cycles failed.
I threw it away. I told my husband he had to deal with it. He said okay, and promptly forgot.
Of course, if any of them knew even the slightest thing about me, they might understand. But they don't know me.
So sister in law was talking about all the cool stuff that she sent to them for presents, because presents is how sister in law shows love for people, and shopping is how she makes herself feel better about her own spin-heavy life, and I was loading the dishwasher, and I was exhausted, and I felt the sadness rising up, and I said "SIL, I can't talk about this right now," and drew my finger in a line across my throat in the no-I-really-mean-it gesture, and she backtracked and said she was sorry, but it was too late.
I started weeping over the dishwasher.
I cried so hard I had to go to bed. I didn't even say goodnight to anyone. I just got in bed and sobbed.
Everyone finally left on Saturday, after a full week here, a full week of dishwashers, and I am still coming down from it. Like I'm in an emotional hangover.
Yesterday I went out for a sail with a friend and his new girlfriend, not new I guess, it's been over a year, but God damn is she boring. She's one of those people with nothing to say except prattle about her kids. Normally I don't care, beyond being bored out of my fucking mind. Yesterday on the launch I found myself swallowing salt water and weighing whether or not to tell her hey, so, I cannot fucking listen to this shit right now, I just can't, and while you're complaining about your sullen teenage daughter at home, you need to understand that I will never have a sullen teenage daughter to complain about. Never.
So shut up.
I am telling myself that I won't always feel this way.
I hope I'm not a liar.
My sister in law was here for an entire week, which is about a week and a half too long. The first night she was here, I was exhausted after a stressful day of houseguest tending, and I was loading the dishwasher for the second of what felt like two dozen times over the course of the week, and she was going on and on about the baby shower for the third in their assortment of four siblings, a well-meaning doofus with no college education or professional aspirations that I know of. They're having a baby in a matter of months.
I was invited to the shower. The invitation arrived either on or around the day I found out one of - which one? Who knows? - my IVF cycles failed.
I threw it away. I told my husband he had to deal with it. He said okay, and promptly forgot.
Of course, if any of them knew even the slightest thing about me, they might understand. But they don't know me.
So sister in law was talking about all the cool stuff that she sent to them for presents, because presents is how sister in law shows love for people, and shopping is how she makes herself feel better about her own spin-heavy life, and I was loading the dishwasher, and I was exhausted, and I felt the sadness rising up, and I said "SIL, I can't talk about this right now," and drew my finger in a line across my throat in the no-I-really-mean-it gesture, and she backtracked and said she was sorry, but it was too late.
I started weeping over the dishwasher.
I cried so hard I had to go to bed. I didn't even say goodnight to anyone. I just got in bed and sobbed.
Everyone finally left on Saturday, after a full week here, a full week of dishwashers, and I am still coming down from it. Like I'm in an emotional hangover.
Yesterday I went out for a sail with a friend and his new girlfriend, not new I guess, it's been over a year, but God damn is she boring. She's one of those people with nothing to say except prattle about her kids. Normally I don't care, beyond being bored out of my fucking mind. Yesterday on the launch I found myself swallowing salt water and weighing whether or not to tell her hey, so, I cannot fucking listen to this shit right now, I just can't, and while you're complaining about your sullen teenage daughter at home, you need to understand that I will never have a sullen teenage daughter to complain about. Never.
So shut up.
I am telling myself that I won't always feel this way.
I hope I'm not a liar.
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