Decisions, Mother F%^king Decisions

So, time has run out. We must send in next month's rent today. We couldn't find any place we truly loved enough to move to in our two week frame so it looks like we will be taking the six-month lease option. Paying $150 more a month is definitely not ideal, especially as we approach the daunting prospect of starting a family, but given the circumstances, that seems to be our best option. During the next half-year, we're going to see if we can find a house within our budget to purchase. Perhaps in the long run, this will be a blessing in disguise, though I would be lying if I told you I wasn't already dreading the stress I'm destined to feel six months from now!

A great thing has happened this week: I've been hired for a pretty awesome freelance writing assignment. I had to sign a confidentiality agreement so I can reveal to much, but it's the biggest responsibility I've ever been given as a freelancer and I'm thrilled.

And more great news!! One of my college besties, MV, is preggers! Yay! So happy for her and her husband! She is, unfortunately, suffering from the ol' "morning" sickness as they call it, though she reports it happens at all hours of the day, not just morning. But somehow morningafternoon&night sickness just doesn't have the same ring to it.  


MV told me that the day she found out she was with child, she woke up, peed on the stick, and got an answer to one very big question, which in turn opened the door to a thousand more questions. Alas, there were no more sticks, and therefore no more answers. 


I feel your pain, MV. If only taking a wee wiz on a piece of narrow plastic could reveal the answers to all of life's questions.

It reminds me of this one time when I was single, I woke up in the middle of night worried that I might have accidentally gotten pregnant. I couldn't sleep, I was so stressed out. I didn't have a pregnancy test and the drug stores were closed. But I was desperate for an answer that I went to the closet and took out my Magic 8 Ball.

I asked the 8 Ball, "Am I pregnant?" and the 8 Ball said, "Yes, Definitely." At which point I broke into a cold sweat.  And then, because I wanted to be sure, I asked it again, "Am I pregnant?" And this time it said, "Maybe." 

I thought, okay. Good. There's hope.

So I asked it one more time and this time it said, "Stop peeing on me. I'm not a goddamn pregnancy test."