Some of you are pregnant or new parents, so I realize I have a lot of gall to speak of being tired. But there. I said it. It's the truth.
I feel like I don't have much to say, women. I go to the gym, go to work, work my ass off, come "home", troll through blogland, read 3/4 of a page from my book and fall asleep. 6am comes and I repeat the cycle. You will have noted the quotation marks around the word home and maybe wonder why they are there. I think I had mentioned that my job was pretty far from my home with Mr. August, and so I had found a place to live during the weekdays. The place I found was not available until January, so I stayed at a guest house in December. Last week, I moved into the new place. The official title I am given there is one of boarder. It's feeling completely weird and uncomfortable for now. There are plastic plants in my room. PLASTIC plants. Remember that my husband is an organic farmer and now do the math. I know: that's just gratuitous bitching. I'll stop and be a grown up now.
It takes a while to get used to new circumstances and I am not at all used to these circumstances. It feels harder to deal with because there is so much stress associated with my work. I need to remind myself of how once I am used to something, it feels a lot better than it ever does at first. My freak out will dissipate. I will stop trolling the housing adds for something better, or different.
The job is going pretty well, I would say. I have a shitload of responsibilities, but that's really fun on some days. When 15 people are sitting around a table and look at you to pronounce yourself on what's up a kid and what he or she needs: call me power hungry, but I kind of like it. Sometimes the answer is a parentectomy, but you won't hear me say that. I'm no Dr. Phi.l. What an ass I would be.
Sattva and I were going to meet last weekend to regroup after the appointments with the psychologist, but a stomach bug ravaged family members over in her household. So we left it until this coming weekend. Mr. August are trying to set up the appointment with a lawyer for the next few weeks. And otherwise, we are freaking out about money. That's the IF treatment update.
I apologize for not commenting as much these days. I feel a bit like I'm in a daze. I am still reading your blogs, but I can't always find something to say. Please know that I am thinking of you, hoping for you, delighting with you.