GO GIANTS!
I only started watching during the postseason but they definitely have been torturous to watch up until now. Not in the World Series though!
This is the first time in recent memory where it doesn’t totally suck to be a bay area sports fan!
I am trying not to be a total douche and suggested to Paul that we go pick out something for his friend’s baby this weekend so he can bring it with him on his Asia trip and give it to them in person.
If you’re wondering why I’m not going with on the whirlwind tour of Asia, the reason is twofold: 1) I don’t travel well to begin with and am still sort of recovering from the summer and 2) the trip was planned right after I found out about my promotion so I wasn’t about to ask for two weeks off! Yeah, so he’s going without me…with his parents actually…which is why I’m not completely heartbroken to not be going. His mom and I have had our differences, but have mostly put them behind us…still I think two weeks would be pushing it!
Okay, done rambling now…
I honestly have no clue how people can work 60+ hours per week – I’m clocking in at about 55 right now and I think that that’s bumping right up against my limit. As my friend Grace said, 60 hours is definitely the cutoff between tolerable and insane.
I think part of it is definitely that even when I have down time during the day, I have to constantly be “on” whereas in my old role I was able to sort of just zone out when it was slow. (Hm, come to think of it, I was only working a touch over 40 hours per week the last year or so..) That said, I really like what I’m doing now versus what I was doing before. I like the fact that the industry is constantly changing, evolving, innovating and therefore there will always be something to learn (which is also an extremely daunting thought, considering how much I already don’t know).
And it occurred to me recently that I’m sitting in a seat that people with MBA’s from top b-schools have jumped through all kinds of hoops to be in. Or even, been rejected for. And yet, somehow, I’m getting this opportunity. It still kind of boggles my mind. I know I have worked hard for it, but I know that as important as it is to work hard, you also need a little bit of luck on your side.
To sum up: I’m tired, but pretty happy.
Life is otherwise mostly constant.
Paul is getting ready to take a two-week trip to Asia WITHOUT ME. Of course, he did come home at lunch to make me a sandwich (sliced in half, each half wrapped separately in plastic wrap!) for dinner since he’s playing squash with a buddy, so I think he’s trying to make sure I’m extra happy before he embarks on his voyage. He’s also apparently planning something special for this weekend since this is going to be the longest we’ll have been apart since we got married. And also, my first time staying home alone in the condo. I am seriously considering inviting my mom over to stay with me. Because I watch way too many crime shows and am super paranoid. While Paul was at his squash game last week I tried to watch De.xter by myself, after dark and had to stop because dude, John Lithgow = super creepy right?? So, I’m thinking no crime/scary anything while the hubby is away. I hope there are some good comedies on cable in the next few weeks.
(For the record, I eventually did watch all of Season 4 and am now caught up and officially totally addicted to the show. But still refuse to watch it at night when I’m home alone.)
I think that for the most part I’ve been coping with things pretty well. The new job role has helped a lot since it has given me other stuff to focus my on (like my alarm buzzing at 4am!)).
I may have mentioned this in passing before, but I don’t think I’ve ever really let on just how addicted to the infertility blog community I have become over the past few years. Pretty much around the time Paul and I got engaged. I did not need to be psychic to know that this probably wasn’t going to go for us the way it does for a “normal” couple.
One thing that has always jumped out at me is how painful other people’s happiness has become to the majority of these women, at least in relation to the subject of procreation. I admit it, I kind of judged them at first (okay, maybe a part of me still does) because that’s such a jerk move right? After all, this isn’t some zero-sum game, a baby for someone else doesn’t take away from your ability to have one too.
But, while I still don’t agree with the ones who insist on calling every woman that has the audacity to get pregnant a “smug b*tch,” I am starting to realize that the reason it has always bugged me so much is that I kind of get them and I’m scared to death of that becoming my reality too.
A few days after my nephrologist told me it would probably be better if I never got pregnant one of my best friends in the world shared with me that she was pregnant. I was almost shocked at how truly excited and happy for her I felt, how joyful, because honestly after reading all these blogs for so long I really didn’t know how I would be reacting deep down inside. I was afraid that dealing with my own struggles would make me unable to feel 100% happy for someone else.
I can’t say what will happen if the years keep passing and Paul and I make no progress towards growing our own family, but for now I’m actually fine with the pregnancy announcements (three so far) and hanging out with our friends children and I still genuinely enjoy talking to people about their babies, pregnancies, etc. It’s actually really bizarre, but it’s the random adorable little families or pregnant bellies that make me jealous and kind of upset.
Except the other day, Paul hit me with a double whammy – his childhood best friend (the one who bailed on being a groomsmen the WEEK of our wedding, did I ever tell that story here?) had knocked up some chick and had just become a father. I knew without asking that he had not married her and I haven’t confirmed this but if I had to guess, I’d say the girl is probably on the younger side (probably just a year or two north of legal is my educated opinion). This is a guy who once had a conversation with me about why a man might decide to get married and have kids knowing full well he will not be faithful to his wife (“Because he wants the kids and the woman at home to raise them!”).
Sigh.
For some reason, that one hurt. I could feel myself tearing up. In my new seat. At work. With a desk full of men. Yeah, as a woman in a man’s world, you generally want to avoid crying (and talking about your period) at all costs. So I did manage to pull myself together in a few quick seconds but it still irritates the crap out of me when I think that HE is a father already and who knows when Paul will be one.
And I hate that I feel this way, because I actually don’t dislike the guy. Sure, I may think he’s a bit of a sleazeball (let’s put it this way, I wouldn’t want him dating my sister) but he’s always been nice and respectful towards me (except flaking on the wedding). And I think Paul actually feels more “brotherly” towards him than his actual brother, so I guess that makes him like a pseudo-brother-in-law.
Like I said, I know that in reality I have no reason to feel upset over the pregnancy-birth announcement. On a rational level I know that I am being a huge asshole and should probably quit moping over it and send a gift or at least acknowledge that the birth of a child who even if unplanned, is wanted and loved, is a GOOD thing. But on an emotional level? I just can’t quit feeling sorry for myself and kind of hating him. Just a little bit.