All I could think of was, be gone with the tummy aches and the mood swings that are so severely back-and-forth right now that I found this past week to be one where i am very grateful to not have to go to an office every day and wear a plastic smile every second until it’s time to go home. I tried to make myself laugh with memes like this but then fuckall, this afternoon was hard to even leave the house as another wave hit me. yet eventually after a bit of couch hibernation I did, I made myself do it, and I walked the neighborhood with my dog and we felt the last bits of sun upon us before the sprinkles came on. a little girl waved at Ruby and I, two other fellas were groovin’ to the r&b up high as they built a new deck on their house, another was working in the garden, and as we rounded the homestretch, the awesome earthy gal whose name I always forget stepped outside just in time for a hello and to give my pup a scratch behind her ear.
Then what do you do after the world proves it’s still not so bad? You get in the car, you turn on Backspin on the SXM who’s got the tributes going on all day for the legendary beloved Phife, who’s left us far, far too early. You groove while you head over to get fixins for dinner and you realize, damn, he did that all in a lifespan of just 45 years, these rhymes, this music, this stuff that all takes me back to my days in Seattle when we went to the club for acid jazz night, you know, back when they’d actually have live jazz and a d.j. kickin’ it, when my friend A and I would literally go TO DANCE…not for some pickup scene. My amigo with the same initials as me, how I miss you to this day, but how grateful I am for our friendship during that chapter of my life.
I’m grateful. Damn I’m grateful for this life, these memories, then and now. That’s what today comes down to as I feel the hormones coursing through my bloodstream, the meds that create waves in your brain and you think it’s your heart. The heart that beats inside of you and tells you that you are alive and you’ve got more to do.
And it leads you back to the schedule. The schedule of trying to get your body ready for an embryo that may or may not implant, that may or may not turn into an actual human. While I’m not about to show you the full process, for those who want a peek, here’s the infamous 1 1/2″ needle that the Delestrogen goes into every 3rd day to get my lining all prepped for the embryo. Next week I’ll add the progesterone each day – that’s when the booty soreness begins (every 3 days isn’t a big deal to my bum, but 9 shots a week? now that’s where the booty bruising gets a little tiresome…the kind that makes you shift in your seat when you’re out to lunch with someone.
But hey, it is what it is.
So now I just say hey, be gone with these countdowns, and let me count UP, let me count TOWARDS something. May I soon be writing about something that has evolved from a broken record to a new production.
But in the meantime? Charcuterie and wine from my husband? Yes please!