Life at 31 weeks

I’m done, I’ve been done being pregnant for a while! I don’t know how or why my mother did this six times and delivered each one naturally! (She had the same frame as me but 4 inches shorter than me.) I feel and look like a blimp. Now it hurts when she sticks out. The punches and kicks, not so much but that could change.

I already had to pee a lot, now it’s just worst. If I have to go, I have to go. If I wait, it will make my uterus hurt. The last thing anyone wants is a UTI. I got one not pregnant by holding my piss in. Those aren’t fun and hurt like hell — and antibiotics suck.

I’m still working. My doctor told me she won’t take me out of work unless I have complications or high blood pressure. Sometimes I need to sit. I feel like I spend 70% of my time at work now taking a piss. I can’t drive home from work without feeling like my ribs are sinking in. And certain seating positions make my back hurt.

I look in the mirror and think I’m getting fat or my body dysmorphia from junior high school is back. Comments from strangers (mainly 40+ years old) about how I’m getting big, am big, or too small do not stop. They do nothing for me but piss me off and think, you wouldn’t say that to any other person that’s not pregnant. But because I am I’m supposed to deal with it and take it as a compliment though it’s not! I’d rather you greet me about my shoes! Then she sticks out and I’m like, it’s probably mostly her or I hope so. I learned what kind of music and food she reacts too.

Modern day violin and piano covers are her thing. I don’t mind, I don’t like classical music either. Her favorite is “My heart will go on” on YouTube by Taylor Davis. It makes me wonder if I should make her first name Rose instead her middle name. I won’t though, I’ve already set my mind. I wonder if she’s going to be more musically gifted than me. Then I could say musical talent skipped 3 generations. My great grandfather was a musician and influencer. I just hope she tries to enjoy more things than strawberry Frappuccinos and sour cream and onion chips. She moves when I have it like it’s the greatest thing on the planet.

Behind the scenes is chaos and frustration at home and work. It’s a miracle that I don’t have high blood pressure. I’ve been waiting for months to unpack my stuff and have space with my husband at the so called ‘apartment’ being worked on. To the point I think she’d come out and we’d have nothing ready. She’d have to live out of suitcase like me.

Work wise, I probably have to consider what I say online. Though my report was anonymous and if he did go against me, it’d hurt him more. I know my employer is being investigated and not just for me, but a series of violations. I will get paid family leave when it’s done but obviously he’s not going to be happy in the process. It’s not my fault he didn’t have a policy in place and pocketed all the money from his employees. If you have a business you should keep up on all the policies, taxes, and safety regulations. Once the state is involved… they have the power to shut you down.

She has her baby shower this Sunday. The only thing I’m looking forward to is the cake and the 3 people I invited that are going. I’m going to be again, surrounded by strangers that need to comment on my appearance. Then some fakeass relatives on my husbands side and friends of friends. Another time I wish I could be drunk or high at a party/event and can’t. It just means we’re getting closer and hopefully everything will be set soon.

Why I’m letting this expire

It’s time to move on.
I don’t see the point in writing randomly like I have been. Besides a small audience and some likes, I don’t gain that much of it. None of you know who I am (though you’ve read about it), I get zero profit for it and little recognition. I went in knowing all this and not expecting anything in return. Now I have to think more about how I manage my free time, spend my money, and what other goals I have in life that don’t involve survival or money. I would like to sell some of my work and write the novel I told my mother I was going to write when she was nearly dying of cancer last year (she’s no longer in remission so it’s possible the nightmare will start over). It forces me to think about everything in my life. I go on the defense and survival mode (if you don’t know what that means don’t read this nor talk to me — I think you’re an idiot and don’t care if you think I’m a bitch).

 

What will become of this?

I could pay for it to be renewed but I’m not going too. I could give it a new name but I don’t want too. I could create a new one with a specific/tighter focus but I don’t have the time for it. This is not a good time for me to manage a website. Anything you would get from me in writing would be more nonsense or things you don’t follow or relate too.

 

I’m sorry but not so sorry that this isn’t a funny or positive post. The truth is, I’m just done. It’s nothing you or anyone did. I can’t stay with this website or blog forever. I’ve outgrown it. Thank you all for watching the madness.

 

Note: The first category on this website was called, “C’est la vie” 

How to be a blogger

Create a WordPress account.

Wait, WHY the fuck are you on here if you don’t have an account in the first place?

 

Customize your website.

Make a squirrel or rainbow your background, who cares.

 

Create a post.

Make a poem or paragraph about how you hate/love your partner, life, job, family, friends, celebrities, society, the world, or getting drunk on the weekends. Include photos or videos by choice…

index5

frabz-In-order-for-me-to-be-jealous-of-you-id-have-to-want-something-y-b5d7c9

 

How I spent my break

We know, everyone asks you this when you come back. The question is full truth or partial truth?

If it were a friend, I would tell it in detail. If it were my followers, I’d tell them as much I can think of or want to share on the internet. If it were my boss, professor, co-workers, or classmates, I wouldn’t tell them everything. Like they really need to know how I got drunk, played video games, and looked stupid stuff up on the internet. Think not.

The jist of it… that’ s not ya da relationship time and going to the bar at the bowling alley.

 

Blogging. Well, duh. There’s posts up here.

Painting. It is the only time I can. Other times, I devote my entire energy on school, interests, relationships, and thinking about what I am supposed to do with my life.

Choreographing. I have some drafts. Nothing completely set. I spent more time free-styling then planning that stuff out. I feel that’s a way to find more moves.

Writing. I am a writer, that is what I do. I also been submitting work, (and getting rejected) as well. I wrote some ‘poems’ I like to call songs because… I don’t know that’s how I wrote it.

Gym. I workout. Everyday. Need for it. Who I am, and way to prevent me from losing my marbles.

Applying. To jobs. Because needs.

Games. Playing call of duty with the boyfriend. Because we got really bored. And then, words with friends and a Simpsons game on my IPad. So, exciting I know.

YouTube. Because we all love watching strangers stuff. It is funny and interesting.

Trolling. Because Google has all the answers to my questions and concerns.

Avoiding social media. Because I rather screw around elsewhere.

Avoiding drama. Not caving into someone else’s wants or desires. Like oh, please. We’re adults. Stop trying to manipulate me and tell me what to do. I don’t work for you. I don’t even know you.