I’m sitting here, fingers flexed, wondering what to write.
Hmm. Not sure.
Things here are at a pause as I wait for an official offer, avoid writing my short stories, and fight the baby battle. My references have been contacted and all is well there—all said that they praised me to high heaven and that the person calling seemed hella impressed. I’ve been promised some word today on what the landscape looks like going forward, but it’s more or less in the bag. I’m excited about this new opportunity and really want to make something of it. As I said to one of my references: I want a career, damn it, and I want to commit myself to something that will help a cause shine. I am nervous about how my resignation will go, but that’s another post.
On the baby front, my monitor gave me a peak reading today which, given the pain on my left side, isn’t surprising. The husband and I have decided that tonight we’ll give it one more go, then put this cycle to bed. He confessed that he feels pressured every month, and I confess that I absolutely hate him feeling like that. He tells me that, since we started, I’ve been telegraphing the feeling that we’re doomed to failure on this front. I don’t know what it is about me, but I think he’s right: for the longest time, I’ve been convinced of problems without any evidence whatsoever. But I am sick and tired of being in a glass case of emotion.
We’ve decided that, should I not get pregnant this time, we will just go nuts and have sex whenever the hell we want next month, all while I make an appointment for us to see the RE. I am going to do my best to use positive self-talk to work through the two-week wait and the disappointment of my period. I will allow myself to be upset, but will try my best to not let it darken our days. (With the exciting news on the job front, I need to focus on the good, anyway.) I will try to treat each month that’s to come independent of one another—lack of a second line one month is not indicative of what may happen in the month to come.
On the writing front, UGH. I wish I had more discipline. It feels like every evening is devoted to something other than what I want to do, which is namely write, read, run, and hang out with my husband. One thing I may bring up to my husband is this: our volunteer work has come to absolutely dominate our lives. I think it may be for the good if we step back significantly and prioritize other things. While this has been a very interesting and sometimes exciting endeavor, I feel like it kills my motivation for other things. I kind of want out, and I think it will free up some time to do the things I really enjoy. Writing is something I also just need to do. When I do it, I’m happy. It’s like working out; I always feel good after doing it, so why, why, why is it so goddamn hard to stick to a schedule?
(Hah. Ended up writing quite a bit after all!)
We’re heading into the in-law weekend now. Eek. So, uh, be ready for some interesting stories come Tuesday!