I find myself in an odd state of mind. I’ve got a week ahead of me (I was told to take two weeks off work, but I suspect I’ll be able to head back on Monday) and don’t know what to do with it. There are certain constraints on my activities. For example, I’m not allowed to drive, so I can’t go anywhere not within walking distance, and I’m not really strong enough to walk very far. It’s too cold for me to want to sit outside and there’s nothing I can do yet in the garden. Nothing that wouldn’t require more exertion than I’m allowed… I’ve got a huge stack of books to read, and plenty of bad downloaded TV. I have a couple of sewing projects I could work on… But my mind recoils from all these perfectly nice options as though they were smeared in shit. I feel…antsy. I think the reality is that I want something to happen on the reproductive front IMMEDIATELY. I mean, I did my bit by enduring a surgery, so I get to be pregnant now, right? RIGHT?
My post-surgery paperwork notes that I might experience “emotional thoughts”. Maybe this is what they meant… In any event, I had better find a way to chill the fuck out or the next three months are going to be ugly.
Some assorted flotsam:
I looked back over my last post and saw that it contained a SHOCKING number of typos. I wonder if those fibroids were the locus of my ability to spell…
Last night I had numerous elaborate and vivid dreams. In one I was floating through the air, higher and higher. I floated down a street near my house where the branches of huge old oak trees arch over the road. As I floated beneath them, I saw squirrels sitting on the branches, eating peaches.