I think without realizing it, for the last few weeks I've been somewhat hermatizing (not a word but I'm using it anyway) myself. I've avoided seeing his family who were up visiting from Florida. I've avoided the redneck friends. I've made no effort to see any of our other friends. Books. I've spent a lot of time with books this month because you don't have to make conversation with them if you dont' want to and they don't care at all what kind of mood you're in or if you've put any make-up on. (See why I don't mind the rule about ending sentences with prepositions; I do it all the time. Because I'm the grammatical gangster.)
I wouldn't classify this as depression, per se; I've been fairly good company for myself. Yes, I may have slept a little more than what would may be considered normal lately, but whatever. I think I've just been wanting some quiet while I waited out this latest two-week period between the last procedure and taking another test. I'm not excitedly waiting to take the test this time and as a matter of fact, I don't think I'm even buying it until the day comes and goes that my period should arrive. If that scenario even happens. While the thought of getting my period again this month is utterly putrid, the thought of peeing on another stick only to see one line show up is just abhorent.
That day is arriving quickly and just thinking about it makes me break out in the cold sweats and have heart palpitations. And that's always fun. Because this would be strike two and the way this particular office works is that after strike three, you're out. Out of luck, that is. They say if three inseminations haven't worked, odds are pretty high it's not going to, and I can certainly buy that. What would happen then is we'd discuss other options, most likely IVF. I don't even want to think that far ahead however; the financial aspect of it is the hurdle I haven't figured out how we'd jump over yet.
But yesterday was a beautiful day and I woke up knowing if I didn't get out of the house for awhile, I'd start to become foul. It's funny that Laura posted yesterday about feeling poopy and how she was going to work through it by doing productive things around the house - usually that strategy works for me as well, but I think I've been in the house waaay too much recently.
I wrote Brian a note and stuck it to the bathroom mirror with a gorilla sticker "Please take me to the zoo today." When he got up a few minutes later and went to the bathroom, I heard him laugh and knew my plan worked. I've been wanting to go; the Riverbanks Zoo is rated pretty highly as far as zoos go (one of the best in the Southeast they claim), it's not far from here, it's not too expensive and like I said, the weather was the stuff my weather dreams are made of. (Preposition! Sorry.)
We set off happily, camera in tow. I babbled excitedly about how we hadn't been there in almost ten years, how I couldn't wait to see the Silverback gorilla and how the botanical gardens were probably ridiculously gorgeous right now. As we approached the zoo exit, we noticed traffic was getting thicker. As we looked at the exit ramp and the overpass leading to the zoo entrance, we noticed cars were stopped. All in the direction of the zoo. He looked at me and I just said "No." We got off the exit and headed in the other direction, wanting to get away from that clusterfuck as quickly as possible.
What I don't get is that I checked the website that morning to see if anything was going on that day, because I know sometimes they have large-ish events. Boo at the Zoo for Halloween and Lights Before Christmas, etc. The site allows you to click on the date of the month you want to visit and let's you see if anything is happening - which I did and it wasn't. Obviously SOMETHING was happening, though; I'm sure I'll read about it in the paper today.
I was sad. I didn't want to go back home yet. I had flashbacks to when we were headed to Disney World once when I was a wee lass and the interstate was backed up for miles with rabid tourists all clamoring to get in at the same time and my dad saying he was very sorry but we'd have to go to Sea World instead. Sea World? I'm sorry - marine life is no substitute for the mighty Mouse. Not when you're ten anyway.
We started throwing out ideas and finally he said, Want to see a movie? I answered with Crank 2 just came out. He said Hell yes, that's perfect! Then fate intervened, I guess to make up for the previous debacle. We got a newspaper and I saw that the movie was playing at the theater that's within walking distance of our neighborhood and the next showing was twenty minutes from right then. We walked in just in time for my favorite part, the previews.
So while it was disappointing I didn't get to see any animals, it turns out Jason Statham IS an acceptable substitute, because the man certainly brings out the animal in me:
The movie was just as absurd as the first one, but take a gander at that specimen above - do you think that bothered me? Ha!
And now, another weekend is coming to a close already. Sheesh.