On a lighter note... TWIT

I was at the office the other day...

Twit is showing.

20 weeks this week.

So we talked about this that and the other and she is doing good. Baby is good, she feels good. All is good. I asked how her hubby was, he was good too.

One thing stuck out.

She is not planning or preparing for anything. She is of the "women have been having babies for millions of years" mind set. She is very blase. I commend her for being so relaxed but I think she might be setting herself up for heat break or agony.

This is the chick that didn't know what "grope" meant.

Yet she knows everything she needs to know about child birth?

This should get interesting people.

Tits

Mine are fucking defective. 

Most things about me are defective. 

Saw the doc today. She had to remark twice that "wow, you really have fibrous breasts"! Really? Like I didn't fucking know that. You know, the 3rd lump and my OB-GYN telling me 5 years ago that I have fibrous tits wasn't a fucking clue. 

Yes, I told her and the nurse that I was told I have fibrous tits. More than once. 

Dipshits. 

So Friday morning, bright and early, I get a mother fucking mammogram. Yippee fucking skipee. 

Wish me luck. Because if its not cancer I am going to be pissed that I had to get my tits squeezed for nothing. I have been dealing with some crazy anger lately and this is the fucking icing on the cake. 

Blarg. Just fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Why can't I function normally? Or at least have one part of my body function right? Lets see; mentally ill, tit issues, tummy issues, reproductive issues, limb issues on 3 of the 4, and I wear glasses. So I think I have something wrong with all major parts of my body. 

However.

These problems are not enough singly to be annoying or serious, they are all just tiny nagging problems. 

Bipolar-nope, never tried to harm or kill myself. Never suicidal. Never severely manic either. Which, in the land of mental illness is nice, but in the land of normal, it is slightly irritating to be crazy but not that crazy. 

Fructose intolerance-have I talked about this? I might have to another time. Suffice it to say, its a bitch. 

Bum knee- fixed once. can't run still. 

Wrists- left one fixed once, right one needs to be. Fucking ganglion cysts. 

Endometriosis- look that shit up. Its a bitch too. 

Tits- lets not forget the tits. Saggy, scared up from breast feeding, lumpy boobs. 

I also get migraines, and heart burn. See, all tiny problems that I feel bad complaining about but they all add up to an overwhelming amount of crap. Crap I don't need to deal with right now.

Sigh. 

I will however count my blessings tonight because I know it could be worse. It could get worse at any time. One online community I frequent has a women whose husband was recently diagnosed with a brain tumor. She is pregnant with twins. I cry every time I read her post. 

Now my problems don't seem so bad. 

Among other things

So, since I got the booby post out of my system it is time to move on to the other massive shit going on in my life.

We got the notice.

Dun-dun.

We have till Feb 18th to pay the big bad mortgage company $4501 or they start the foreclosure process. (Which is called something else that starts with an A that I don't recall.)

I was looking for apartments, getting ready to move, getting excited to get rid of sooo much shit that has taken over our house... then I did some research.

Once the house goes into foreclosure, if it doesn't sell through a short sale, it goes to a judge. The judge sets the time frame and the amount of money we need to pay BBMC in order to keep our house. Once that time frame is up the judge tells them BBMC that they can reclaim the property. BUT, if we petition the court we can stay in the house for 9 more months. So we just have to stay on top of court notices, evil mailings, letters from BBMC, etc. and we won't have to move for a while.

Which, oddly enough, has given me a sense of stress relief.

I can focus on school and the kid. Take my time searching out a new apartment. Take time packing... I am trying to look on the bright side.

My darling daughter did almost bring a tear to my eye the other day. We were sitting on the couch, she was watching a DVD and I was looking through an apartment finder magazine. She asked what I Was doing. I told her, "finding a new place to live for us" she pondered it for a moment and asked, "I go too?". I told her yes she goes too, she asked if I was going, if daddy was going, and if the dog was going. I told her yes. We are all going. She asked why, I told her that we are family, we all stay together no matter what. Semi-sentimental Disney moment we had.

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. SHIT

So as you can probably tell this isn't going to be a touchy feely post.

After ignoring and avoiding and generally trying to NOT think about it, I found another fucking lump in my left breast.

My left breast hates me.

For those of you who don't know, I tend to have fibrous boobies. In 5 years I have had 3-4 lumps, a few mammograms, and some ultrasounds on the girls to rule out anything bad. In 2010 I had a huge fucking lump removed, think golf ball sized, from my left breast. Fabulous scar I am left with as well.

I am not really worried about getting cancer. Yet. Right now I am pissed that this is such a huge fucking inconvenient time for this. So now I have to make a doctors appointment, tell some new doc my history, have them touch my boobs, and go in for a shit ton of more semi-invasive tests.

I am sooo thrilled about that. Let me tell you.

Fuck. Really? Couldn't this shit wait? Like another 6 months?

Peace

So at this very moment I am at peace with the world.

I am probably just cycling, but I am happy that for this moment I am at peace. No racing thoughts, no worries, no anxiety. There are very, very few times in my life where I can sit and be at peace with myself like I am now.

It is a pretty good feeling.

I am a horrible, bitter person

I will admit it. I have my reasons though.

Twit is pregnant.

Let me repeat.

Twit is pregnant.

I am a horrible person because I am not happy for her. While I did talk to her today and she seems to have her shit together, I am wary about it.

This girl has got it. She has had life handed to her on a silver platter. She has never known death, misfortune, or anything bad. She is pretty, has a great husband, and a great side job that makes her tons of money.

I am jealous.

Now she is pregnant. I imagine that she will be one of those pretty, never have morning sickness, never have high blood pressure, never get swollen limbs, sneezes and the baby comes out kind of pregnancies.

I, for those of you who don't know, did not have a stellar pregnancy and I am rather fucking bitter about it.

So, I hope she gets fat. So she can at least be fat for once in her life. (edit to add) I hope her boobs deflate.

I know, I am horrible. I can live with that.

Please, Kick Me Some More.

So things just keep getting better and better.

Took the dog to be boarded for Christmas .. to pick her up it will be $268! WTF? Apparently she has Fleas? Heart worm, Hookworm, and needed some shots. I get the shots thing, that is usually when she gets her shots since we board around the time she needs them anyway. NBD. But fleas? Really? We haven't seen any, she hasn't been itching, we haven't been bitten... the same with the worms... no signs or symptoms.

So it is either the dog or the kid. Paying for the dog will leave us unable to pay for preschool. and we can only pay for the dog because we got $300 for Christmas from the in-laws. I will be returning what gifts I can for cash, that might help too. Oh- and we need to bomb the house as a precaution.

Fuck. Me.

On the bright side, JM has his 4th interview with the new job place either today or tomorrow. They aren't too organized so we don't know yet. I hope he gets it or we are going to be fucked. No other way around it.

We will be homeless.

Happy New Year.