Well, I was so brain-dead that I forgot most of what I wanted to say last night.
I talked to C-- for quite a while last night, the better part of an hour and a half. He seems rather, well, concerned about my pregnancy. He's ten times more solicitous than he had been in months. I'd hate for him to find out my suspicions, but I think he's doing some sort of penance for the way he reacted when his ex-girlfriend turned up pregnant. From what I've been able to piece together from my conversations with him and the couple of e-mails from her that C-- forwarded to me, he did the typical Male Thing when she told him she was expecting. Said it wasn't his. He realized how stupid this was nearly immediately, and was all for making plans to raise the kid with her and be a model daddy. But when she got an abortion on the sly (didn't even let him know beforehand), she threw the fact that he'd originally said it wasn't his in his face.
I'm not condoning his reaction, understand. But I'm told it's a near-universal reaction in guys, especially when the relationship hasn't been formalized in any legal manner. Dirk admitted he'd had the same nasty little thought, though he'd been too smart to give it any credence or voice it aloud. Anyway, C--'s ex was a nasty piece of work who thought her Dancing Award was more important than keeping a baby, and didn't want to spend the rest of her life with C--, because he "wouldn't be able to keep her in the style which she had become accustomed to". Basically, he wasn't rich enough, and she wanted to sponge off mommy and daddy for a while longer.
Enough about C--. I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate me delving into his personal life in public. He seemed somewhat taken aback when I freely gave him my phone number, though. I think--I don't know what to think. All I know is he's been interested in both sides of this problem, both how I'm dealing with it and how Dirk's dealing with it.
I had a couple of really awful dreams, that I can only remember a couple details from. In one, I was on the cast of a T.V. show. In one part of the show, I had to vomit up eyeballs (I assumed it was a horror movie or something). Instead of me putting fake eyeballs in my mouth, I was forced to swallow an entire jar full of real, human eyeballs. The first one went down okay, it was the second one that started problems. I could feel the damn things going down my throat, one after the other.
In the other dream, someone had partially skinned a Bison. It was still alive, and someone brought it into my office to be fixed. I was told to sew the skin back on the bison, even though I cannot sew a straight stitch. I spent a lot of time putting it off, because the idea of sewing the skin on made me want to vomit.
I was also a bitch this past week-end, owing to the fact that I felt like shit warmed over.
I have a couple questions, maybe one of you can answer it: why the hell are my hits going up so much. Are there really this many people who need to view this particular car-crash of a life? I mean, honestly....where were you when it was going good? When I crowed all day about my life, my boyfriend, and the scads of money I was making. Probably elsewhere, looking at someone else's car-crash, huh? Of course, I'm forgetting the fact that His Lord High Roachiness probably checks out this site daily, so he can have a little chortle at my expense. And, probably has all of his online buddies checking it out, too, so that I am not alone in my downfall.
Good. I'm glad he reads this. At least one of the people I dislike most in this world knows, on a daily basis, just how much I'd like to see him sink back into the slime from which he was formed. Feeling special yet, Roachboy?
I do mind admitting this, but I'm going to anyway. It's more than a little lonely these days. The only person I really talk to (meaning not via IM or ICQ) is Dirk. Part of it is because I've become so insular in the past couple weeks. I mean, what the hell am I going to talk about? The topic du jour is just how nasty pregnancy is. I can't think of anything else to talk about. Pardon me, it rather consumes my thoughts lately. It would consume yours, too, if you were in my situation.
And you people, for whatever reason, have been pretty good about not e-mailing me and telling me to keep the kid. That's a smart reaction. I might be semi-depressed, but I am by no means beaten by this. I repeat, for the good of all the true believers who would see me brought to the Path of Righteousness, I don't give a shit what you think. If you don't like the fact that I am terminating this pregnancy, fuck off. Find someone who cares about your feelings on the subject. I sure don't.
Anyway, if I can find any privacy in the office today, I plan on calling the clinic. Otherwise, it will have to wait until tomorrow. I may have to take a day off work for the procedure, so that I can be sure of a couple days to recuperate. Also, I'm not exactly certain how long the procedure will take.
There's a lot of supportive people who read this and who talk to me that I'd like to thank, but I'm not mentioning names. Most of you are nicer than I am, and I'd hate for the religious freaks lurking around the edges to track you down and pester you because you've been kind. You know who you are. Thanks.