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9:23 pm - April 28, 2009
Deareddie's Law trumps Murphy's
   It's Spring, Hooray!!! The lilacs are in bloom and their scent is heavenly. I am no longer wearing enormous parkas to keep my extremities from frostbite.

   So... Lots of changes. Gird your nethers and settle in for tales of woe-- with potential. Gentle reader, I believe firmly that this year has the capacity for greatness, despite it's poor beginning. DearHusband was fired in January for giving away a cup of coffee. However, not just fired... charged with theft. All for *One* cup of coffee. One 12-oz cup. Seriously. After 8 years, working every holiday, never taking a sick day, and only taking two days off for OUR WEDDING. Subsequently, there was no unemployment insurance, a monumentally expensive lawyer, and a pending court date. UGH.

   Pragmatically, this has been a killer. I started dreaming every night of the parable of the grasshopper and the ant. We had so much fun while the money was there, but didn't sock it away for a rainy day, as it were. We have a very, very different perspective on saving now. I may have aquired another pathological quirk about having money in savings. It'll get along fine with my incessant worry about running out of gas. And the one about clean socks.

   A good thing came from this, though. I've needed my hair cut for the past 8 months, and unless someone else took charge, I was going to end up with a very unflattering Louise Brooks cut administered while talking to myself drunkenly in the bathroom mirror. So in exchange for 13 inches of hair donated to the Locks Of Love program, I got swoopy side-swept bangs (very irritating but apparently flattering) created by a real, honest-to-goodness stylist for free in a good salon. And I still have enough hair for a decent-sized ponytail. :)

   I've been having trouble with fatigue and nausea, and it turned out that there was a "plus" sign on the pee-stick this month. In two weeks, I learned that morning sickness is not confined just to mornings, and can, in fact, be experienced 24 hours a day. Even though I'm of average weight for my height, I went from viewing myself as Marilyn Monroe-esque to seeing the Venus of Willendorf every time I looked in the mirror. Also, there is no "glow", unless frankenstein's-monster-green complexion qualifies.

   This month, DearHusband found a job! Woohoo! He comes home excited from the job, in a way I don't think I've ever seen from him before. He'll work afternoons, evenings and late into the night-- weekends too. I groan a little, thinking of how I used to complain about the alarm waking us up at 4am so he could get to work on time... but he was available afternoons and weekends. Irony in action, I believe. This makes me determined to find the good in this, lest the next thing I lose be DH himself.

   So, back to my uterus. (As I type that I find it completely hilarious; I hope not to have offended you.) This past weekend, somewhere amidst panic attacks about health insurance, qualms about my genetic worthiness, letters from the landlord declining to renew our lease and requesting that we vacate the property asap... *takes breath and admires the verbosity of that last run-on sentence* ...my body declined to continue its pregnancy. I don't really know how to address how I feel about this. Relieved? Devastated? Complicated? I don't know. I just keep thinking about the beginning of the movie "Idiocracy". They show a nice, intelligent, stable couple who are waiting to have children for "the right time", and then a Jerry Springer-type scenario where everyone is pregnant and ridiculous to explain the dumbing-down of the human race. I wonder where I fit into that, or where I will fit into it?

   Gentle reader, I think that's enough for now. My life has been feeling like someone else's narrative lately. I've ceased to feel maudlin about this, and am genuinely amused thinking that I really don't know what is going to happen next. But I can be certain that it will be interesting, and if I look for them, good things will happen.

   Until next time,
D.E.

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