Not enough drinking, but plenty of me being an idiot
I sooo wanted to give y’all a drunken post, but…I never got drunk enough.
This makes me sad. Getting shit-faced with J is pretty much my favorite thing, but…I guess we’re OLD now. His last night in town, I asked if there was anything he wanted to do that we hadn’t gotten around to yet. He went through his checklist. The final item was drink too much. We looked at the bottle of horrible, horrible, beyond vile vodka he brought me from Kazakhstan. We looked at each other. We opted to go to bed.
I did get tipsy enough to make an ASS of myself on Friday night, though, when we met up with BFB and Mr. BFB at our local bar. BFB was talking about her baby, and I was finding her more and more annoying. Finally, she turned to me and said something pretty innocuous like, If you want total strangers to talk to you, just carry a baby around.
I WOULD IF I COULD! I shrieked. Like a craaaaaazy person. Airing her reproductive biznazz in a completely inappropriate way.
The following morning I tried to figure out what my damage was. I realized a couple of things. First, I hadn’t anticipated that having mutual friends around (because J and OBR were my friends first, but are now BFB’s friends as well) would upset the equilibrium I’ve achieved where BFB and her baby are concerned. I felt envious again, which I haven’t for a while. But seriously–it should have been MY BABY that my friends were fawning over. Or, if they weren’t going to be fawning over my baby, there shouldn’t have been any fucking fawning.
Thing number two: the closer I get to returning to the baby makin’ mines, the less I believe any baby will ever result. I know–I should be more optimistic than ever. And I feel like a jerk for voicing these thoughts in front of people who have Real Problems or have endured Real Hardships. But for whatever reason, this is what I’m feeling. Deeply depressed by the whole prospect. Wracked with sobs in the shower every morning, bursting into tears a couple times a day depressed. So tired of this bullshit. (I know, I know, two years is nothing, but I bet you were tired of the bullshit by your second year too…)
Unable to imagine anything changing, ever.
Fortunately, I’ve got that bottle of Kazakh vodka. Maybe it’s not too late for a drunken post!