14 weeks

and the hormones are flowing.  Full force.  I seriously hate everyone and hate my life.  I don’t know if I can even remember back to a time where I was so consistently unhappy.  Not to mention the truth, which is that my husband is a total prick and everyone was right when they said we should never have any more children–nothing else to continue to tie us together when it’s quite obvious that we should be apart. 

I’m pissed because the weather has been beautiful and I love nothing more than sunshine in Seattle.  And yet, I cannot step foot outdoors for even a moment without sneezing and itching and my nose running like a faucet. 

I’m pissed because I have a family of five arriving in two weeks for a week-long visit and my husband refuses to complete his necessary “To Do” list. 

I’m pissed because I woke up yesterday morning and found that we had NO WATER.  The pump on the community well has broken, which we have been informed occurs every 2 years.  (Not to mention that every August, we will be out of water again for a few days when the well dries up as we wait for rain.)  Being without water SUCKS.  We have to drive to a hydrant a few streets down to fill up buckets of brown water to bring home.  The water is only suitable for flushing toilets.  It takes 8 gallons of water to flush a single poopie.  I can’t wash my hands.  I can’t wash my body.  I can’t brush my teeth the way I like.  I can’t wash dishes.  They just pile up on my counter.  I can’t wash Rylan’s face when it’s smeared with jam.  I can’t wipe down the countertops which are encrusted with food.  I can’t do laundry.  I have never been more on-fire pissy in my entire life. 

-I’m pissed because I cleaned out the garage and found cans of my husband’s beloved SPARKS hiding all over the place.  Wrapped in plastic, wrapped in paper grocery sacks, stuffed into boxes…They are EVERYWHERE.  I’m pissed that nearly every time I look at him, he has a can of beer and a cigarette in his hand. 

-I’m pissed that I have no friends here anymore.  The closest friend is two hours away.  My best friend is 3,000 miles away.  I am so sick and tired of being without her.  It’s not fair and it’s not right when you are pregnant and your husband is a dick and you can’t drive to your best friend’s house for some reality TV and garlic triscuits. 

I’ve got to wipe my eyes and do something productive now.  Send up a little prayer for my raging hormones.

6 comments May 26, 2008