Remember when that was still a thing? Oh and I actually had semi-interesting things to report! Well here’s today’s truth:
I’m more scared than I’m letting on.
Remember when that was still a thing? Oh and I actually had semi-interesting things to report! Well here’s today’s truth:
I’m more scared than I’m letting on.
I get annoyed at people in my MBC group when they post something like. “I’ve been on my first line of treatment for 7 years. Don’t give up hope!” Yes, that’s great for you, but that is NOT the norm, and it feels like some sort of fucked up bragging. I know it isn’t, but it hits badly.
I’m on my third line of treatment at a year and nine months in. I’m just really jealous.
Why not me?
Oh and I gave myself an incredible, intense orgasm while under the influence of lemon glue.
My husband doesn’t even know about this yet. He’s too busy out in Connecticut to chat much throughout the day. We typically facetime in the evenings when he’s on work travel. I forgot to mention this to him last night.
ANYWAY –
So a couple of months back, I went on a first date with a guy. We hit it off. We had sex in his car. It was fine. Nothing spectacular. I did it more for the experience than anything else. I had never done that before, and, to be frank, I’m running out of time!
My husband was less than enthused about this development, and so I told the dude that I couldn’t see him anymore. He was bummed, but was cool about it.
He’s getting married in like two weeks, and is deploying in like a month. He’ll be gone for a year. This is all info I knew about when we started talking a few months back, but I wasn’t looking for anything serious, so it wasn’t an issue for me. (I also went out on a date with his soon to be wife – so there is no shady-ness here. This is an ENM situation).
He texted me yesterday to check-in. He has done this periodically to see where D and I are in terms of me being able to go out with him again. I just find this so fucking bizarre. Like the pussy was good, bro, but it wasn’t that fucking good. Don’t you have enough on your plate right now?? Anyway – he was like I’m still in town for 5 weeks and maybe we can go out again. If not, we can keep chatting and see where things are in a year.
LOL WHAT???!!!
I mean, on the one hand, I am flattered as fuck. On the other, I’m like: dude, this just wasn’t meant to be, bro.
A year is a very long time when you have MBC. Fuck – a year is a long time period. Especially for a relationship that never even got off the ground to begin with.
It’s Tuesday, right?
I really need to get my shit together, but I am majorly on the struggle bus. Even insignificant things are feeling overwhelming right now. Like my bank card expired, and now I need to update all of my auto withdrawals, but fuuuuuuuuuuck I don’t want to mess with that. What a fucking hassle.
I have managed to get some work done this morning, which feels good, but all the cases are fucked up – like way more complicated than they should be – and I just want to shut down and go back to bed.
Did I mention my stomach hurts? Because my stomach hurts.
And I’m tired – because DUH.
Oh and so very cold, like fuck winter in it’s fucking ass w/o lube, fucking freezing my non-existent balls off, cold. I’m over winter. Fuck right off, winter. Somebody go kill that fucking ground rat. Bring me the sun. I don’t even care anymore.
Aren’t I a fucking delight?
Also – I’m going to have to block some people, because I cannot deal with the endless fucking commentary.
NOT TODAY, SATAN.
My latest annoyance:
I have a highly anticipated date on Thursday night. A date I have waited a long time for, and am very excited about. Well – I was just informed that I now have a trial scheduled that night on some old as fuck DWS case that my client never made good on. I’m talking about a case from fucking 2017. So now I have to appear at 6 pm on Thursday to sort that bullshit out, which interferes with the date, and now I don’t know what is going to happen, and I am very, very frustrated.
Oh and I failed to mention here that this entire week has been complicated by the fact that my ex-husband decided to wait until two days before leaving town to mention that he was going to need me to have our child for the entire week. I don’t mind having Jackson here for a week. What I do mind is having to scramble to rearrange plans/meetings/make new arrangements at the last fucking minute in order to accommodate him on something he knew about for weeks. He was like, “Oh I think I forgot to mention…” YEAH YOU FUCKING DID, ASSHOLE. He is seriously the most selfish person I have ever met. Fucking. Ever. That is not an exaggeration. Fucking ask anyone who knows him well and they will agree.
So let’s recap:
I don’t feel good.
I am grumpy.
Being a lawyer sucks.
It is stupid fucking cold.
My ex is a fucking dickwad.
Yep – I def have seasonal affective disorder. IT’S SO MUCH FUN.
I think I need to call my psych and ask to up my Lexapro. Oh and get more Xanax. In fact, I’m going to go take a Xanax right fucking now.
BYE.
PS: I’ve been being “good” on the blog recently and not being quite my normal dramatic self. Well that’s over now. Welcome to hell.
I wish I had been a veterinarian instead of an attorney.
It’s pretty amazing how little motivation I have for my job at this point. Part of me just wants to hand the entire thing over to DG and move on to something else. I am not about this life anymore. I’m hoping that will change once this merger is done, but god damn it is a major pain in my ass.
Since it’s Tuesday, I’m going to confess something: what I really want at this point is to be a house wife. I want to grocery shop and clean. I want to chauffer the kids all over town. I want to micromanage their school work. I want to take care of the pets. I want to pay all the bills on time (lol). I want to go out to lunches with friends, exercise more, and meal prep. I want to take an hour in the morning to read. I want to walk the dog every morning and evening. I have never wanted this before. I have always been very career oriented. But my priorities have changed since being diagnosed metastatic, and I kind of wish I could just retire right now. The best years of my life are slipping away from me. Everything could go downhill in the blink of an eye. I’m scared.
I just learned of another local attorney suicide. These happen relatively frequently. This profession just chips away at your mental wellbeing, and getting out is nearly impossible. Once you take on clients, you are kind of fucked. It’s a never ending cycle of misery most days, tbh. I do not recommend that anyone ever go into private practice.
A few years back, my landlord (who had his own legal practice) killed himself because he didn’t see a way out. I know another guy that shot himself under a bridge because it became too much. Others just become alcoholics (hello) or drug addicts to deal with the stress. It’s not pretty.
Unless you are one of my besties, I almost always only make plans with others when I’m drunk, and then I’m always annoyed about it when I’m sober again. But I’ve found the only way to get myself to be social is to commit to things when my inhibitions are down. I’m content to stay home like 98% of the time. Other people are exhausting.