3 Weeks and Counting...
Currently Listening To: Best of You- Foo Fighters
Holy shit, I've got less than a month until I'm married! It dawns on me more and more, and my butterflies multiply in my stomach. I'm so damn excited, I can barely stand it!
Ugh. My gramma went me an email, asking where my aunt's invitation was, because she hadn't gotten it yet. Like I fucking know where it goes after I stick it in the mailbox, I sent them a week ago. Jesus Christ, I wish she'd calm down. I sent the fucking invitation. If worse comes to worse, I'll send another one. But what should I expect from a woman who expects a personal invitation to a family birthday party? -_-
"I didn't come to your birthday party because I wasn't invited personally." Bah. Lady, it's a birthday party for family members. You're a family member, you're invited. You don't get a gold plated invitation to give me 10 bucks in a card and share some hastily made, store-bought birthday cake from Safeway. Honestly, get a clue.
I've almost finished painting my cake topper ^_^ I need to do some detail work on it, but that won't take very long at all. I messed up on the couple's eyes. But I bought another tiny brush, so things should be remedied shortly.
My hormones are so fucking wierd. One week, motherhood seems like the most natural and wonderful thing in the world. The next, it seems like the worst thing that could ever befall me. Chris and I have been talking about having a spawnling eventually, but even "eventually" sounds like too soon sometimes. I dunno, I guess we'll see when "eventually" arrives. But right now, ugh. The last thing I want is some little pooping, drooling disembodied parasite latched onto my hip, screaming and aggravating my migrane. I'm so damn thankful for birth control.
Speaking of which, I've gotta go back and see what my options are for Take Charge. It expires this September, and I need to go in and see if I can renew it, and see if my being married effects it or not, and if so, whether or not my fiance-husband-to-be's insurance will cover it. Married or not, I will not end up pregnant before I'm ready. Not falling into that trap, thank you. I enjoy my independance far too much.
Oh ugh. It's almost time for my annual too. Fucking pap-smear. Fucking metal fucking brush fucking scraping the inside of my uterus. Creeps me out, I hate doctor visits.
Holy shit, I've got less than a month until I'm married! It dawns on me more and more, and my butterflies multiply in my stomach. I'm so damn excited, I can barely stand it!
Ugh. My gramma went me an email, asking where my aunt's invitation was, because she hadn't gotten it yet. Like I fucking know where it goes after I stick it in the mailbox, I sent them a week ago. Jesus Christ, I wish she'd calm down. I sent the fucking invitation. If worse comes to worse, I'll send another one. But what should I expect from a woman who expects a personal invitation to a family birthday party? -_-
"I didn't come to your birthday party because I wasn't invited personally." Bah. Lady, it's a birthday party for family members. You're a family member, you're invited. You don't get a gold plated invitation to give me 10 bucks in a card and share some hastily made, store-bought birthday cake from Safeway. Honestly, get a clue.
I've almost finished painting my cake topper ^_^ I need to do some detail work on it, but that won't take very long at all. I messed up on the couple's eyes. But I bought another tiny brush, so things should be remedied shortly.
My hormones are so fucking wierd. One week, motherhood seems like the most natural and wonderful thing in the world. The next, it seems like the worst thing that could ever befall me. Chris and I have been talking about having a spawnling eventually, but even "eventually" sounds like too soon sometimes. I dunno, I guess we'll see when "eventually" arrives. But right now, ugh. The last thing I want is some little pooping, drooling disembodied parasite latched onto my hip, screaming and aggravating my migrane. I'm so damn thankful for birth control.
Speaking of which, I've gotta go back and see what my options are for Take Charge. It expires this September, and I need to go in and see if I can renew it, and see if my being married effects it or not, and if so, whether or not my fiance-husband-to-be's insurance will cover it. Married or not, I will not end up pregnant before I'm ready. Not falling into that trap, thank you. I enjoy my independance far too much.
Oh ugh. It's almost time for my annual too. Fucking pap-smear. Fucking metal fucking brush fucking scraping the inside of my uterus. Creeps me out, I hate doctor visits.
posted by Ryven at 2:31 AM
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