My husband is not dying faster than ordinary, at least not this week. This is good news, but I dread the pre-EOB bills. (I’m amazed at how long one waits for appointments but how fast those bills arrive.)


I don’t know if it’s because my ovaries feel like they’re in a boxing match, if it’s stress let-down, if it’s stress ramp-up (I added another physical, social activity to pH’s life–adding to my taxi duties and diminishing time for myself), or the potstickers I knowingly consumed last night, wheat-be-damned (they really were wonderful but I am paying for it). Maybe it’s that pH has woken me up several times in the last two nights. Maybe it’s that I had nightmares about my birth family last night.

Maybe it’s because I have three novels that want to come out right at the same time and right now. (I have a tendency to mull things over until the pieces fall into place, I outline, then I write. It happened all at the same time for all three.) I have the opposite of writer’s block and I have scant time to write, and when I do find time to write, I’m too tired to write.

Maybe it’s because pH asked me who my boss was.

“I am.”

“No, really.”

“No, really. I am. It’s freelancing and it’s teaching you.”

“But what about a job? What is your job?”

Horrible mood. Nothing does it like not feeling like I contribute financially. Because I don’t, much.

I did the things that usually make me feel better (cleaning, organizing, etc.)…and they didn’t. I got out of the house (again). I took a klonopin.

Nope. I wish I drank. Maybe that would help.

I am feeling petty and jealous of people who lived charmed lives, who live in beautiful houses and do not worry about money. (This is why I am not really paying attention on Facebook; I don’t care how fake the presentations are; I can’t deal with everyone’s happy cheerful posts.)

IRL, someone tried to cheer me up by saying at least I wasn’t in Nepal. Um, thank you for the perspective? (I said something like, yes, the biggest earthquake I was in was 7.2, there were no avalanches and I did survive it, although a number of people near me didn’t. Pro tip, admirals: don’t let anyone name a freeway after you.)

Perhaps Tuesday will be better.