Wednesday, March 24, 2010
he waxes profound
Paul (after watching American Idol): I just had an hour of my life sucked out of my life. It's deep. Think about it.
Monday, March 22, 2010
a lightness in my soul
Hi, blog. Remember when I told you that I wouldn't neglect you ever ever? That I would be there for you, in good times and bad, until computer virus do us part?
Sorry, blog.
Really, I mean it. I'm sorry. It will never happen again. It's just that I was busy. Nothing funny is going on, I SWEAR. Please accept these red roses and this heart-shaped box of chocolates as a sincere expression of my deep and profoundly felt sorrow at the hurt I have caused you, blog.
What? You're not buying it? I thought the heart-shaped box of chocolates would do the trick, for sure.
Okay, okay. I'll level with you.
I did IVF again. And it didn't work. Again.
And it turns out that when I am in the middle of an IVF cycle, I cannot concentrate on anything.
Anything.
Everyone and everything I see reminds me of babies and all I want to do is look at baby products online and my brain turns to a gigantic bowl of baby oatmeal and if I attempted to write a blog post all that would come out is something like goo-goo-ga-ga BABIES and there is nothing whatsoever I can do about it.
But now, it's over. No more shots, at least for a little while. No more hot flashes and mood swings and feeling like I'm turning into a science experiment. Life has become normal again. Well, normal..... with extra twinkies.
My brain has begun once again to recognize non baby-related terms. I actually feel like exercising. Studying is again possible. And I feel like writing.
But what is there to say? What do I feel like saying?
For a while, the words in my heart and head were kind of sad. They matched my feelings, I guess. So it's not that I didn't think about you, blog, because I did. I just didn't want to bum you out. You're not a living being and thus are unable to eat cookie dough and I just didn't know how you would deal with sad feelings without cookie dough.
Today, though, the words in my heart and head are different. They match a lightness in my soul. And my soul feels like warm yellow sunlight and like flying on a trapeze and like when you eat a warm chocolate chip cookie with milk.
My soul feels good.
My soul feels like everything will turn out okay. And while I wait, there are warm chocolate chip cookies with milk and Paul to eat them with.
Sorry, blog.
Really, I mean it. I'm sorry. It will never happen again. It's just that I was busy. Nothing funny is going on, I SWEAR. Please accept these red roses and this heart-shaped box of chocolates as a sincere expression of my deep and profoundly felt sorrow at the hurt I have caused you, blog.
What? You're not buying it? I thought the heart-shaped box of chocolates would do the trick, for sure.
Okay, okay. I'll level with you.
I did IVF again. And it didn't work. Again.
And it turns out that when I am in the middle of an IVF cycle, I cannot concentrate on anything.
Anything.
Everyone and everything I see reminds me of babies and all I want to do is look at baby products online and my brain turns to a gigantic bowl of baby oatmeal and if I attempted to write a blog post all that would come out is something like goo-goo-ga-ga BABIES and there is nothing whatsoever I can do about it.
But now, it's over. No more shots, at least for a little while. No more hot flashes and mood swings and feeling like I'm turning into a science experiment. Life has become normal again. Well, normal..... with extra twinkies.
My brain has begun once again to recognize non baby-related terms. I actually feel like exercising. Studying is again possible. And I feel like writing.
But what is there to say? What do I feel like saying?
For a while, the words in my heart and head were kind of sad. They matched my feelings, I guess. So it's not that I didn't think about you, blog, because I did. I just didn't want to bum you out. You're not a living being and thus are unable to eat cookie dough and I just didn't know how you would deal with sad feelings without cookie dough.
Today, though, the words in my heart and head are different. They match a lightness in my soul. And my soul feels like warm yellow sunlight and like flying on a trapeze and like when you eat a warm chocolate chip cookie with milk.
My soul feels good.
My soul feels like everything will turn out okay. And while I wait, there are warm chocolate chip cookies with milk and Paul to eat them with.
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