It’s Tuesday night. (and my sister’s birthday, happy birthday B!) I’m camped on my big yellow couch in sweats watching the last rays of sunshine light up the north-facing buildings stacked between me and Buena Vista Park. The sky is so clear and the days are so long…and I know from so many years of being a San Franciscan that big summer fog is right around the corner, as is, fortunately, my escape to real summer in Michigan. This Sunday!
I woke up feeling so tired… the weekend in Sebastopol was fabulous, the best kind of therapeutic girl time, and I returned feeling something like jet lag after keeping slumber party hours for two nights in a row. On top of that, last night I splurged on two cocktails which seemed like a good idea given that it might be my last chance for a while. I don’t know if it’s age or weeks/months of sobriety or my new focus on fitness in recent years, but drinking multiple cocktails once in a blue moon generally makes me feel some shade of terrible.
After a lackluster work day followed by acupuncture, I feel totaled. I had planned on seeing Beans at meditation followed by a drink with Ms. R (who is inspiring me with her optimism), but I just had to come home. At this point, I’m working to stay awake until a reasonable bedtime, like 9:30.
Three more days of work, and I am out of here for two weeks.
I found myself remembering vacation of a year ago, traveling to Alaska with D., meeting tons of his family and promising his brother that when we came back this year we’d be married and pregnant. Then the trip to Michigan where I took him around to all the beautiful sights and he was nonplussed and I was going out of my mind with aggravation.
Acknowledging that dating is not my priority right now, tonight I wish I had someone here with me. Someone who would give me big smiles and attention. Maybe it’s that I’m about to ovulate, but I’m suddenly noticing all the affectionate couples on the street, thinking huh. Remember that?
One SMC friend was saying how right after her BFN her impulse was to go online dating, and I said, “That makes total sense–you want to create love in your life, either this way or that.” Me too. What a waste that I am spending so many years as an impatient single lady when I have piles of love for the guy of many plusses. . But I am seriously out of ideas on how to find him.
The baby love, on the other hand, is a lot more under my control, although still not under my control. I’ve noticed that now, having once been pregnant, I feel like mentally I’m a bit more prepared for it to happen again. I can talk about “when I’m pregnant” and not feel like a total fraud. Still… I’m on Day 14 and so far negative OPKs, seemed like tonight it was beginning to change color (yes, I’m testing twice a day), EWCM (not that I’m checking), and I’m hopeful that the positive will be tomorrow. Perhaps it’s later since my body is probably reorienting itself a bit.
All this raging feminist debate online about “having it all” also has me furious–good, important debate, but disappointing that it leaves out single moms (who, ps, are the majority of families) and those of us who are resigned to not having it all and wouldn’t even tease ourselves with that notion. Add on top of that SF and crazy rents and me in a studio still doing a 1040EZ… You guys, how is this all going to work?
Over the weekend, I found myself peeing on a stick in Samuel P. Taylor State Park on a hike, telling my friends, “Please tell my kid how much I went through for this.”
I appreciate this quote of Nora Ephron, who died today, “Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.”
OK, Nora. After an ice cream bar and some sleep, I will.