Not that kind of weight, though. Being 38 pounds smaller is nothing to complain about.
I mean the kind of weight that comes with stress. And life. And the combination of stress and life.
Things have been rough at work. I can’t say much more than that. There is a knot of stress and anxiety permanently residing somewhere between my stomach and my temples. The worst part is having no control over any of it. The issues are not mine to resolve, and yet they are mine to deal with.
Add TTC to the professional stress, and I feel like I have anvils hanging from my eyelids.
It all feels so heavy. I am so tired. I had an hour to kill last night between work and a hair appointment and I got about as far as my couch before I collapsed onto a throw pillow and begged the dogs to let me close my eyes for a few minutes. They obliged, and I was awakened 45 minutes later by Catch’s key in the door—and I still felt like crap.
I went for a walk at lunch today hoping the fresh air and exercise would clear my head and perk me up a bit. It did the opposite. I can barely keep my eyes open.
I can already imagine how my legs will feel on the treadmill tonight. It’s not going to be pretty.
Today is CD 12. I should have ordered sperm by now, but I haven’t. There was a problem with the shipping address and I haven’t bothered calling them to resolve it. It could be too late, now. I have no idea. Frankly, I’m too exhausted to care all that much—except that I also care a great deal. I don’t know how that’s even possible.
As I was writing this, Catch texted me to tell me that her librarian at work is pregnant with twins. She said she wants to cry. As a result, in the past 10 minutes, I’ve ordered the vials, called both CA Cryo and the fertility clinic and am hopefully en route to getting those puppies shipped to where they need to be. Sometimes I just need a kick in the pants. One more phone call should seal the deal, but I’m going to wait until faxes have had time to be sent and received.
I really need a vacation. HR told me this week that I have 262 hours of vacation time right now. That’s what? 6-ish weeks? I think it would do me significantly more good if I put it to use somewhere with poolside waiters than it is sitting there accruing on a spreadsheet.