Tuesday, February 5, 2013

stream of craziness

I would like some ice cream.  Right now.

I wish I could just drive to get some ice cream right now but the Dude is asleep and that just seems wrong.  Not to me, but to the cops I think.

It is a good thing the McDonalds is on the other side of town because I could seriously go for some french fries, too.

I hate winter.

I also despise country music.  I know I've said this before, but seeing as my radio dial consists of mostly that, I feel the urge to scream it multiple times a day.

I have just noticed that every sentence here starts with I or I words.  Hrm.

Not now!  Hahahahahahaa!!!!

I feel trapped.  Like, there's snow out there and I don't have the energy to wrangle an angry Dude into a coat so I hate leaving the house, plus if I get up and move around my uterus turns into a boulder and it's hard to walk anyway.  I live in a teen tiny town with nowhere to go and I was wondering the other day what it would be like to actually live in the same town or state as one of my besties.  I don't have any idea how that would even work with my agoraphobic lobster of a husband.


I'm kind of excited to get to lay on my stomach again in a month or so.

I wish I was shorter so clothes fit me better.  Like, Target clothes.  Thems is clothes for the average human.

I'm kind of excited to try and wear regular clothes again, although I have discovered the secret to good maternity wear.  PLUS SIZES.  Seriously, they are roomy and actually try to not hug your middle thus showing off the plethora of panty lines that are getting ridik because I am too balloon-sized for anything to fit right.  The few plus sized things I've nabbed for this pregnancy are definitely getting altered a bit and are staying in rotation once I expel this human.  I HATE maternity clothes.

I have a tentative plan for when the baby comes, based on what happened last time.  I shall birth the human, stay in the hospital the appropriate amount of time, come home, kiss the kids and then check myself into a dive motel (that has an ice machine) down the street for 2 or 3 days.  That way I don't have to be around the baby or make small talk with anyone, I can just lay in bed and cry and wish I was dead in peace.  Then, when my body is done trying to kill me, I can take a nice long shower and head home.  The only kink in this plan is that the dive motels down the street look like they will give me a disease or someone will murder me there, which I definitely do NOT need on top of everything else.

I think this is a good plan.

I am reminded though of how disappointed I was on December 22nd and how the world didn't end.  I was kind of hoping it would.  Maybe getting shot at the Thunderbird Motel is just what I need.

Although what I REALLY need is ice cream.  With strawberries and Oreos.  And a mother who is NOT currently gallivanting around Vietnam.  But I could settle for the ice cream, at least.

3 comments:

Jane said...

Okay first, you'd be able to get to McDonald's and back before the Dude woke up. They sell french fries AND ice cream!
Next, if the kids want to play in the snow without coats, let them. It won't last longer than 30 seconds.
Last, good plan, just take your own sheets and it'll be okay.

heidi said...

i can't wear target pants either. i have one hip that is bigger than the other so all their pants pull to one side. it's like having camel toe with a lopsided camel. that is the grossest thing i have written in a while. not ever, mind you.

Alisha M said...

I would love to wear any pants that aren't $60 or more. I has long legs.

Is someone coming to help you those first few days, while your body is trying to kill you? It makes my heart hurt that the otherwise miserable (and nice occasionally) first 2 weeks are nightmarish for you. It's hard enough when everything is "normal"

I'm praying for you, and I know that doesn't help much to you right now, but I am. It will suck, but you've got this. You can do it. You've got loads of people in your life who are pulling for you.

HEAR YE. I need to document the fact that I ran 3 miles and didn't feel like death.  So just to make sure it wasn't a fluke, I did...