Invasion of the Body Snatcher

My body is no longer mine. I suppose I haven't been stripped of it entirely, but am simply sharing it. The needs of the tiny proto-person I'm sharing it with, however, take precedence over my own wants. Andrew has taken to hovering in the background whenever I'm eating, asking if whatever it is I'm having is okay. I can't complain too much, though. He's always taken care of me, but now he won't let me lift a finger for anything. It's odd though, to think that everything I'm doing is affecting my unborn child. I've always been the sort of person who reacts poorly to being told I can't do something, especially if it's for my own good. I would love nothing more than to have a big block of feta cheese crumbled over a salad as a side dish to a nice plate of sushi, all washed down with a pint of hard cider, or even just a glass of iced tea, perhaps both. I now I can still have plenty of things I enjoy, but at the moment I'm focused on what I can't have. It's like I'm on a nine month diet from hell.
My mother has also gone crazy over this child, in a much better way than expected. We went to the beach together yesterday, just the two of us. There was no arguing and minimal eye rolling. She's already talking about babysitting next year while we're both working and at school. Today she told me she's ordering me a book about keeping a natural home for the baby, since I've become a bit of a hippie in that respect. She's also been sympathetic, since Dr. Killjoy, as she calls him, has basically put her on the same diet I'm having to keep to, though presumably without all the folic acid.
Andrew just called, he's finally on his way home. He's doing sound design for the show that's going on at school, so he's been putting in long hours. He's kindly agreed to bring me a strawberry milkshake because "the baby wants one." I think this kid and I, if we can work together, have a great future ahead of us.

Crunch

School is going well. Everytime I start to feel less than adequate a professor will be excited by something I've said, or I get a paper back with marks far better than I was expecting. I havent' missed any deadlines, and I am actually working ahead on things. I still feel crunched, though. I am crumpled. I feel like the paper wrapper on a straw that has been completely compressed around the straw's bottom. I have all of this straw stretching out before me, but, for some crazy ass reason, I am scrunched down into near nothingness.
Andrew is, as always, incredibly supportive. So are my friends. Sadly, I'm not seeing everyone so much as I'd like. It seems odd, in the past I have practically lived at Val's place, but now I haven't even seen her or the family in well over a week. I've missed HFS two weeks in a row, now. First I had a headache from hell. It felt like a lovely little proto-migraine, waiting to fully flower from semi-blinding pain to full blinding pain. Last week I was working on the story that wouldn't end. When it did end, late Sunday night, it clocked in roughly fifteen hundred words beyond our maximum word count. I did finally manage to cut it down by about twelve hundred words, but it was cutting it close. It hurts to have to go through and cut down what you thought was sparse to begin with. But this weekend I will be there, and hopefully will get the ball rolling on my squire project. I am feeling antsy about my squireship. It feels like I am off to a rough start. I'm hoping to change, this, though. Maybe seeing my friends on Saturday will be just what I need to feel like I can stretch out.

Present!

Boy Thing with his birthday/graduation/good-lord-how-do-you-put-up-with-my-daughter? present from my mom. It doesn't have a name yet, but all the dashboard displays glow red. Yes, it *is* the perfect car for him. Hrm... Maybe we should name it Maul? Maulie? Hehehe... It is a great car, though and Mom is totally awesome for helping Andrew get it. He even says I can drive it sometimes! Hooray!

Too Poor to be Clever

Blah! Had crap telemarketing job, lost crap telemarketing job. She said it was because I wasn't "a good fit", and that's true. I may have very few morals, but the few I do have don't involve scamming people. It's a big part of why I hated Dillard's. Fuckers. Anyhow. When I was being asked to quit she was going on about how she didn't relaly think it was going to work, and she could tell I was unhappy, and so on and so forth... and if you were really that convinced I wasn't going to work out, why was I hired? I mean, that's the most confusing part. I thought that was the purpose of the whole interview type process. If you can tell in the interview that it isn't going to work, then you don't hire that person. I knew something was up when she didn't even look at the application she had me fill out, and the only question she asked was if she hired me would I show up on Monday morning. *sigh* I should have said no. I was just excited at the thought of maybe being able to pay the bills. It'll work out. I called back about a job with the San Pedro Playhouse, and she found my resume and talked it over with me on the phone, and congratulated me on my luck for actually catching her when she felt like talking to someone. Apparently that lucky phone call took me from lost in about a hundred resumes to being on the short list of people to be interviewed. Happily she's a Trinity alum and so we know some of the same theatre folk. Heh. She got sidetracked from my box office experience and started asking about my electrician experience and how much carpentry I know. Who knew lounging about the theatre and hanging out in Willy's office would actually pay off? Take *that* rule 12! Heh. Not that anyone paid attention to that anyhow. Am still tempted to email Rinear about it. You know, back in high school I joked about always wanting to quit drama, but never being able to. Then I wound up being involved in various ways throughout college, now I'm marrying a technical director to be, and may be working in a theatre. I give up. Yes, theatre owns me. Now can I please get paid for it again? (Though slightly more than Trinity paid me would be nice... which reminds me, Andrew got the Stieren position this semester! Hooray for Dave being in Scotland.)
Gah 3:30. Andrew is currently grinding away on WoW, something about cleaning up a few quests. I can't wait for a real job with a real paycheck, so I can get a real computer. *sigh* But yes. 3:30 am... fixing sleep schedule. Going to bed now. Ok, going to bed to read... but still, bed! Especially since Puck has been whining for about 4 hours now. Stupid cat... can't be an alarm clock, can't bring me a beer, can't clean the kitchen, but he *can* enforce bedtime. Hrmph.

5:30

Why is there never anyone for me to talk to at 5:30 in the morning? I don't want to be awake. I didn't want to be awake several hours ago. I want to be in bed, asleep with the boy I love. I want to wake up in a couple of hours and complain about his alarm clock, and be all drowsy while he gets ready for work, and get kisses when he leaves, and then wake up an hour later. I wish I had fallen asleep in his arms, instead of curling up on the couch with a book. I want to win the lotto so we can both be nocturnal and I wouldn't have to grumble about his alarm clock or worry about finding a job rightthismoment.
Life has suddenly gotten much more complicated. I don't know how we're going to make it through. I need a job, I need it now. I need the paycheck now, actually, the job part can wait.
I keep wanting to write, but I don't know how to say the things I want, and I think I've covered this already, but it's still true. I don't even know where to try and get published and my stuff is crap anyhow. Ok, and I know that's crap, but nothing is going right at all anymore, and just when I think everything has gone to pieces and it can't get worse, it does. It does and I wonder if I'm being punished, or if everything really does happen for a reason and this all part of some plan that will work out for the best any moment now.

Two of my favorite boys ever. I don't know what I'd do without them. 

Isn't he cute?