Bye, Bye Facebook

I know I had recently thought, "Why on earth do people suddenly decide to quit FB?" And the more I thought about it, honestly, the more tempting it became.  I'm sure I'll be back (sound familiar, Allison? lol  Please don't call me a copycat!), but I'm not sure when.

So why did I do it (I know I'm talking to a practically empty room, so let me better understand myself)? I needed to find some strand of sanity without the water well of tears that seems to always lurk behind this pregnant woman's emotions (we are a very teary-eyed bunch, you know, crying at everything from a shirt no longer fitting to not being able to find the brand of cereal we like in the grocery store...ok, maybe not THAT bad).  Anyway, it seemed like with every post I read and every post I posted, I got a little more teary-eyed.  I know I'm not supposed to envy others, but I honestly wonder what I did/do to so many to see dinner invitations, parties, vacations with friends--and I'm never included.  Apparently, my sick sense of humor is to blame, or my lackluster enthusiasm over _________ (fill-in the blank).  Maybe on one phonecall or another, I seemed distant or sullen, which was really a slight distrust coursing through the phoneline, wondering how I'll be excluded once again.  Or, perhaps my hubby is to blame (as he always tells me).  Nevertheless, I feel like a tag-along.  You know, that friend who just happens to be at the basketball game so you manage to say, "Hi, how are you?" but you keep going before I can answer entirely, yet I continue to follow you around the stands, hoping to strike up meaningful conversation.

Maybe my feelings are just extra hurt lately, but I'm tired of long-distance relationships with people who live 20-30 minutes away.  I know you're busy, I know I'm busy, but what's the harm in at least a voice mail if one of us doesn't pick up the phone?  I've called, I've had people over for dinner, I've texted, and I've emailed--and as far as I can remember, I'm always the last to do so (and in the case of dinner, the only to do so, with the exception of one far-away friend).  I was in a car accident (granted, not a large one), but having those contractions scared me.  The miserable pain the next day scared me.  Who called?  My mom's friend in Pennsylvania to make sure everything was all right. 

Perhaps I'm blaming the wrong things for these feelings.  I admit, I feel like I'm drowning in my own house with so much to do and no where to even put a baby...seriously.  I know people used to live in one-room houses, but I just don't know how to go about it and I can't move furniture (or deer heads) myself, so I'm just stuck...I do find it interesting how so many people (whom I've actually spoken with) said, "At least you'll have plenty of girl stuff for this baby since you already have girls."  Really?  Do other people honestly keep everything from nearly 7 years ago?  Stained and soiled?  I am thankful I kept as much as I did, because I've already spent at least $700 on baby stuff--crib, dresser, carseat, stroller, clothing, etc.  And as much as I don't feel like getting up tomorrow (Saturday) to go to work, I know I have to in order to pay for all of the above, and the diapers I need to begin accumulating.

Perhaps the crux of the matter is the young guy who rear-ended me but lied and said I had already "slammed the brakes" and hit the car in front of me and THEN he couldn't stop so he hit me.  Honestly?  LIAR.  I at first gave him the benefit of the doubt until I realized he was on the phone with his dad and then asked if I wanted to file a claim, and then the police showed up and he gave his statement.  Seriously?  Lying about a car accident with a pregnant teacher?  How low can someone be?  The insurance agent already warned me that his insurance may refuse to pay because of that statement.  One word:  Pray.

Then, I went to the doctor today, and although my bp was wonderful (114/60), I have another infection.  I was told a prescription would be called in.  It wasn't.  Did you know they don't page doctors for prescriptions?  So even though it was the doctor's office's fault, I have to wait until Tuesday to get it straightened out.

Next, I was standing in line at Meijer and a woman actually cut in line ahead of me in all my prego belly glory.  I admit, I thought a few mean thoughts and gave a few mean looks.  And then I realized one day I will probably just explode and the white uniform men will have to lock me away.  Maybe this is my explosion?  An explosion of text dripping with tears and emotional hormones.

I feel so much better since writing this, and yet I'll probably chicken out and delete this post within a few minutes.  Writing takes guts, though, and good writing takes guts and honesty.  Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying this is good writing, but it may eventually lead to it....if the padded cell allows me to use pen/paper/laptop.