Nothing Personal

First off, I want to apologize for any typos, as I am typing without glasses or contacts. In the dark. And the dog will not GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME! So a misspelling is just a given at this point.

Second, I owe the universe a premptive apology. I can’t control my bitchiness at this point, and it’s so tiring to even try. So if I’m insulting or mean to anyone, whether in person or on the phone or on the Internet, I apologize.

Ever since we found out I was growing this life-form in my belly, certain parts of my personality that I’ve always tried to hide have slowly been creeping out. Suddenly, I didn’t really give two shits about what anyone (friend, parent, religious guru) thought about what I should be doing. And suddenly, things became important to me that never seemed so serious before.

Case in point, my relationship with Trent. Though I’ve loved him for years, I guess I was never truly sure where out relationship was going. Wasn’t sure if we’d ever have a family. Worried about it a bit, but mostly just tried to get through each day and go to sleep happy. It worked well. I had my friends and my life and Trent.

All of that changed when he looked at me and told me that having the baby was the only option. After we had agonized over what we should do. When he looked me strait in the eye and told me this was what we were meant to do. This was our future. And when I was still pouting over my “life” lost, he was the one telling me that there are better things for me than a bar crawl or a Halloween keg stand. He has been the one with me every. single. day. Even when I’m the most miserable person on the planet. Not many people have had the chance to enjoy the hormonal freakouts. Most are wondering how I keep it all together so well. Inside I’m screaming. And he hears me.

Along with this has come a power that I never used to feel. I actually have been telling people what I really think. Maybe this is a side effect of pregnancy, I’m not sure. But I’ve told people to fuck off more times than I care to count. And not because I’m thinking it more or I’m a bad person. But because I have finally realized that there are much more important things for me to worry about right now.

So again, forgive me. It’s the hormones. But be ready. Because I probably won’t be as gullible as in the past. At least, for a few more months. Then, have no fear! The Bacardi will flow like a river. As long as I have a babysitter, of course.