Did I tell you I'm pregnant?

I have been pretty well immersed in my own life for the last few weeks. For those of you that don't know, I'm pregnant (and halfway to my due date already!) and we finally got our own place again.

The new place has given Hubby a new kind of confidence that I haven't seen in quite awhile, BabyG has developed a rash while I'm just pregnant and bitchy.

I keep telling myself it's pregnancy hormones and that I'm not actually depressed. I keep assuring myself that I'm not actually a horrible person. It's not working. Watching mutual friends meet up while I'm uninvited on Facebook brings me back to high school. "Sorry... Didn't know you were available..." And "Well, [random name] kind of just thinks you're a bitch." Yeah, well... I guess I am. I'm just lonely. I'm at that place where I want to invite people over to our place now that we have one but when no one shows up it will crush me.

I've stopped unpacking. I am slowly just shoving the boxes to the spare room and shutting the door to hide the stacks of boxes and bags of clothes. I can feel my blood pressure go up just thinking about that room.

I've pissed my family off. Well, my sister has always been very critical of me and even her positivity can only be met with curiosity. Why is honesty so bad? Why am I the bad guy for saying how I feel? My mom kept asking me, "Have you thought about my feelings in this?" In something that didn't even directly involve her. Obviously, I left my grandmothers house in bad terms. It didn't have to be that way, I so desperately didn't want it to be that way. I still have a handful of things there that I need but am too agitated to go back and get. I guess when you become old and senile you can do no wrong. Even me expressing my anger (not directly at my grandma) is some big disrespectful thing that I shouldn't have done. Do you even know how suffocating it feels to be told you aren't allowed to feel a certain way? How robbed of free will and disgusted it is to be told you aren't allowed to feel a certain way simply because of whom it is you feel that way towards? I called no names or made any remarks that weren't based on facts but yet I was the one who was told to feel guilty and wrong for my simple act of feeling. It became clear to me, through the actions of everyone in my family that there is a clear line between me and them. I guess because of my relationship with my family I have always approached all of my relationships with people on thin ice. The only time I remember my mom telling me she was proud of me in my adult life was after having a kid. My sister and grandma began to warm up to me after I had BabyG. I became worth something by joining the unspoken Mother Club. Such a thin string I dangled on with just that.

Well... Anyway.

I'm just bitter and pregnant, I guess. Yes, being pregnant is an absolute explanation not an excuse. If you've never been pregnant before you'll never understand the draining, guilt-filled, bitchfest that is carrying a lovable leech in your womb. I have begun to feel actual kicks now, especially when it's been 20mins since my last bathroom visit. According to the scales at the doctors office I've only gained 8lbs (that's been about a month ago, though) which is on track in the "healthy" weight gain chart for my size/height. 8lbs is a substantially smaller difference than what I had gained with BabyG at this point (30lbs... Yikes!) and it seems to be primarily in my torso area. I catch myself lifting my gut and carrying it. Elastic bands are my friend! My belly is so heavy some days. I can't avoid it. I remember feeling this twisted and alone while pregnant with BabyG but I lived thousands of miles away from everyone I knew... This time is different, I live just mere minutes away from the few people I call close and the same amount of minutes for those in the ripples of the friendship scale. I'm probably just being neurotic and needy but I can't help it. Hubby says all the right things and caters to my insecurities to the best of his ability, I am very lucky in that way.

I guess you could say this blog is a cry for help. A passive aggressive bitchfest that I hope will turn into hugs and sympathy. Just being honest. 

Painful Truth

I have been mulling this blog post over in my head for days. 

I mainly want to talk about the most heartbreaking news I've had this month without sounding like a complete cretin bitch. Especially when a heartbreak also happened with my sister and the situations are so different and so brittle it's hard not to take notice of the obvious.

Bury it in the backyard

Anger takes so much out of me.

Its exhausting to be this angry all day. Sleep is but a whisper when I need so much if it. Coffee just stirs the acids in my stomach and gives me cramps. My lack of sleep just makes me more angry.

Trash Talk

This isn't about me being pregnant. Well, sort of, I'm sure my rage is coming from hormones. This is a rant. About... well, life. I was going to say work, because that's what sparked the idea for this blog but really it's life too.

Firstly, I want to rant about the trash at work. We work in three different stores. Each store is in a different Parish. But the location isn't what I'm complaining about, of course, as I previously mentioned the trash. I use to work at one location about four days out of my work week. Now I just work my weekends here. Saturdays mainly. All day. Which is okay, but every weekend is pissing me off... *clears throat* Okay, let me be pissed off about one thing before I go off on too many tangents. Okay. Trash. Stay focused, Beth! Trash.

Alright, well, last week I finally caught a sunday off and my boss took my shift. Well, that saturday when I worked before I remember noting the clusterfuck of boxes by the backdoor, on my way out. That sunday, my boss sent out a rather snarky group text to everyone to "take care of it." Which I found annoying, but that is basically how he handles most things so it's whatever. Well, here it is another Saturday and there is the original clusterfuck of boxes and addition of bags of trash thrown in on the boxes. Seriously? So, not only my boss sent out that snarky text he didn't bother to throw ANY of the trash out on his way out?! Even after he said, "It's twenty steps out the backdoor, it's not that hard." Umm, okay. If it's not that hard, why not grab a box or two on your way out? Really. Now, let me say this: I don't entirely blame him because there are numerous other employees that work at this location that could in fact, grab a box or two (if not all trash) on their way out. He also didn't ask me directly to throw it away, I took it upon myself because I didn't see it ever happening otherwise. It just burns me up.

So today, I took out the fucking trash. I took out the fucking trash. I'm going to say that again: I took out all of the fucking trash that I had nothing to do with. I didn't create it, I didn't leave it there, It happened while I was at another location. I took out someone else's trash at a place that I work. You know why? That is what being an adult is all about. Taking out the trash and for the most part, taking care of trash that we originally had nothing to do with. That is adulthood. Also, being proactive and not telling someone else to "take care of it" but, in fact, taking care of it yourself. I know it's no big deal, it's just trash. Not only that, it's trash I've taken care of. It's in the trash right now. I broke down the twenty boxes and stacked them up. I gathered the bags of trash that were piled on the boxes and walked outside, I opened the huge gate and threw everything away. It took me thirty minutes. It shouldn't have taken my thirty minutes. The trash shouldn't have accumulated to that extent. It's ridiculous but it's a done deal. That is thirty minutes of my life I will never get back because I work with lazy individuals.

Also, my fucking tooth is killing me. My face is swollen and I'm pretty sure I have the beginnings of a bruise where my tooth hurts. I have two more painful weeks before I can make a dentist appointment. It hurts to eat on that side. My allergies are running a muck. My nose is so dry, I have a painful sore in my nose too. I'm having trouble breathing. I'm scared to take anything. I also had a very bad scare at work. I had serious cramping, puking and bleeding at work. I left work early and while I was waiting for Hubby to get home I passed out in bed. When he got home he woke me up and we plotted how to make going to Urgent Care work without me being technically covered with insurance. He started the search for his Health Ins. card and I passed back out. When he found it, I guess it was harder to wake me up so he told me to just sleep. Sleep, I did. When I woke up it felt like I had been hit by a truck but no more bleeding and the cramps were gone. I also went to bed early that night and slept in the next day. Two more weeks and I can see a doctor. Two more weeks. Two more weeks. Two more weeks.

Two more weeks.