A funny thing happened today ...

I dropped V off at school, ran into my neighbo(u)r Sarah, whom I like a lot and who walked me to the end of the block (out of her way), and then saw my other neighbour Pip, who was going for a jog along the Thames, as I was about to cross Richmond Lock to meet some friends for coffee. Nevermind that my friends didn't show up at Starbucks (I was relieved in so many ways), I realized that I have a life here and I will be sad to leave.

Of course then I panicked, wondering if maybe it is in our best interest to stay here. And I don't think that it is. But I started doing the math and it's been ages since I've been in one town this long (20 months) and this is about how long it takes just to feel comfortable in your surroundings. If anything, this realization gives me the confidence to go back to the US and make new friends in a place where most of mine have now left or moved on (believe me, the two instances are not the same).

So in many ways I'm pleased that I'll be sad in four months, or however long this takes, and though it sounds masochistic, really it's just nice for me to know that I am capable of working through this bullshit and finding a niche. It just takes time.

You know, it doesn't hurt that the weather is beautiful, so unlike last spring. And it helps tremendously that my husband supports me fully in whatever I choose to do, including spending his hard-earned money on a cleaning lady. And knowing that in about 5 months tops I should have self-reliant transportation in the form of a car is comforting. But whatever -- I'm not ready yet to talk myself out of growing up!

*Roar*

My emotions are pretty overwhelming right now. I am feeling some cross between anxiety over not having friends and bitterness regarding the people I've tried to befriend. Yesterday I had really low self-esteem and today there's some mixture of that and catclawing toward a real semblance of self. I keep reminding myself that I am not this weak ... it's just the last few weeks have been so strange, plus I'm pregnant and likely hungry, though truly constipated more than anything and all that together adds up to an emotionally crazed woman. Where is the Law & Order about the pregnant lady who goes apeshit and mows down people in parking lots? I swear it's based on my character in this moment.

There is nothing that can calm me down, either. I tried ringing friends around here, but you know what? They're not that interested, so then neither am I. I tried getting in a baby swimming pool, but between the warmth that was questionably due to children's urine and the depth of three feet not hiding my pregnancy thighs so well, I couldn't really enjoy it. I tried eating things, but peanut butter cookie dough, carrot cake and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (holy shit! we found them at Woolworth the other day) aren't even helping. Good god, the sun is shining and I still feel all out of whack.

Of course part of it could be that I am unable to have sex without pain and therefore resentful of my body, my husband and every human I know who isn't experiencing this. That could be a lot of it. Have I referred to this already, like the pee pitcher?

I guess it's a good thing that I don't have a car these days. Surely I'd get a DWP .

Pregnancy gripes, 28 weeks

* I slept 3 hours last night, 5 the night before
* I think I'm constipated. It's happened to me so rarely in my life that I'm not entirely sure.
* I'm cranky.
* I desperately want to have sex but it's too uncomfortable and sometimes painful.
* I'm potty-training my two-year-old. 'Nuff said.
* I miss my friends.
* I am so large and in charge.
* Vaughn's swim class starts in 2 weeks. That means bikini line awareness. I could do a PSA on this.
* I still don't know where or whether we're moving.
* I am sososososo bummed that I have 12 weeks (+) to go. It seems unbearable.

5-second rule

How are you supposed to be a good parent when you're not even a clean human being? I just recently started washing my hands after I use the bathroom. I'm not even joking. For those of you who have eaten at my table, do not worry -- I always wash before cooking. But I'm reminded of that VW commercial where the new dad talks about the 5-second rule ... I think in our house it's more like the 15-minute rule, and I believe I've expounded on this previously.

I bring it up today because yesterday I employed one of the most immature manoeuvers of all time ... I flipped somebody off. And, dear reader, it wasn't just somebody: it was the entire staff of the Gap in Richmond, and every passer-by, every child, including my own, and every employee for yards around saw me do it. I rationalize it by telling that the shop was due to open at 9:30 and I arrived at 9:25, only to wait until 9:40, stand by as the door was opened for the postman, simultaneously receiving an evil glare from one of the staff members, who proceeded to slam the door shut after said postman departed and relock the portal to my toddler Easter dress pursuit. [Thus ensued my middle-finger proliferation.]

But in actuality I think I'd just been dying to be immature and I only needed a good excuse. There are only so many times you can say, "We don't eat off the floor," pretending to mean it. Really.

Speaking of time management ...

And we were, weren't we? I decided last week that if I have time to look at at least four celebrity gossip web sites throughout my day, then I can spend that energy doing something constructive instead. So I deleted the bookmarks from my browser and have been pushing full-steam with MS Freecell. Actually today I did manage to call the US embassy, which is huge because I've been putting it off for months. So there: I did something.

Other neurotic notes for today:
* I have no friends here
* No one likes me
* I'm embarrassed to have people over for tea because I totally monk it as an American
* I look like death
* My hair is too long
* Mark is going to die from eating moldy syrup last night
* I am going to bleed to death during birth
* I'm never, ever going to be warm again
* Someone's going to hurt Vaughn