Knock Knock. Who's There?

I remember my first pregnancy as being all magical with sparkles and rainbows and stuff.  It was 7 god damn years ago, so maybe I have just blocked out the bad and only remembered the unicorns and glitter parts.  Or maybe I was only 25 and all in love and wondrous and shit so I just had a great time.

I dunno.

But this time I am a raving lunatic slash bitch from hell slash nightmare.

I called at least 4 drivers assholes on the way to work this morning.  I flipped someone off.  I called my husband a fucking idiot a half dozen times (not to his face obviously.)  I've gained 2 pounds in a week because all I want is pizza and Chick Fil A.  And I nap on the couch 2-3 times a day. 

It's just shocking how I feel hungover and crazy every day.  I'm really not complaining, honest.  Although other people are starting to....

Fucking morons.

T.L.C is an Asshole

This is the first week of school where Bugs goes all day.  I have Tuesdays and Thursdays off but Tuesday I was busy with random errands and bullshit so I didn't get to spend the whole day with myself.  But today!  Wow!  Today I dropped Bugs off at school, went to the GYM.  That's right people, the gym.  And now I'm home, thinking about how I should be cleaning, but then watching T.LC instead.  (P.S.  Kate is still as scary as ever.)

At first I watched Wh.at N.ot to W.ear, in which a military wife got a makeover right before her Navy husband came home on a ship!  Of course I was bawling my fucking eyeballs out.  Now it's A Ba.by St.ory in which the doctor has just scared the first time mom into a C-section (presumably because he has a tee time coming up.)  More bawling.

Oh and did you know there's like 5 baby shows in a row?????  Are you trying to KILL me TL.C?

I'd better not... I have what doctors call a little bit of an "anxiety problem."

I get anxious.

A lot.

Not like worried that I'm going to be late for an appointment, but that I'm going to crash my car into the cement side wall on the way, killing 7 and injuring myself.  Then I picture the funerals and what I would do or say and how I would defend myself at an involuntary manslaughter trial.

These irrational, illogical thoughts occupy my mind every day.  Especially when I try to go to sleep at night.  That's when the really fucked up thinking happens.  It involves death and rape and destruction of myself and my family. 

Then I get up to check the locks.  One. More. Time.

I finally decided to talk to my doctor about it because it would be really nice not to worry about getting raped in my bed as I'm falling asleep at night.  Only my regular lady parts doctor couldn't see me for weeks, so I decided to call a family practice clinic near my house.  I've never been to this clinic.  Clearly, they have issues with people showing up and asking them for hard core fucking narcotics and xan.ax or something.

They really thought I was just trying to get drugs out of them.

It ended with the doctor giving me a prescription for an anti-depressant and a card for a clinical psychologist.

Bitch.

I guess I am crazy.  Add 1 more reason to the list of why I should start using illegal drugs.

WTF? (Or How Clomid has Made Me Crazy)

Today is officially the cross street of Clomid Road and Crazy Lane, although it started a few days ago. I am a nut job.

So far, I have been mad about the following things:

- Lux Lisbon's skinny little waist
- My scale
- Myself for stepping on the scale
- Myself for gaining (more) weight
- Miniature Babe Ruths for being so good
- Myself for being too hard on myself
- The freeway
- Email
- People who mumble
- Fertility Friend
- My husband for being too busy to make me feel better
- Oh yeah, the Clomid
- My job for not letting me bring booze on days like this

There are, quite literally, a dozen more things I've been mad about. In my head, I know I am being hormonal and irrational, but that doesn't stop me from being hormonal and irrational.

I'm really considering a beer (**) and frozen custard binge. Or at least getting off work early for a nap.