I have 9 days without my husband at home going on right now. It's weird that 9 days without a husband is weird (I didn't have a thesaurus to find another word for weird.) I have lived my whole life without this husband thing and now bam-sha-blam, I file my taxes jointly.
Honestly, I like to just throw the word "taxes" into conversation and written word because it makes me sound more like I know what I'm doing being pregnant and married.
Living in a new place without friends is like eating plain cheerios.
Oh lordy. Now you feel like I'm pouting about not having friends, and you think I'm a loser.
Ok, well clearly, I'm not a loser. Just look at what I'm doing right now: I'm talking to my cat, blogging, and watching a re-run of Teen Mom 2. So, that's cleared up. And I'm really not pouting. I won't lie. I spent the first 3 months in Washington feeling bad for myself, being lonely, vomiting (that's a seperate issue), and having a relationship with Cheetos. Something clicked recently, though, and I realized that just because I can't necessarily act right now and that my "real-world" job consumes my life, it doesn't mean that I have to watch Martha Stuart, make my own casserole recipe book, understand what a 401K is, or keep a reasonable amount of laundry done at all times. I can still be me. I just got to make my own way and do things a little differently than those that aren't planning to care for every aspect of another being's life for the next 18 years.
Shut up, Katlyn. This is getting cheesy and annoying even to me.
Mom jeans: something I fear. You know how the all-knowing "they" say that when people are getting in a wreck, they focus so much on what they don't want to hit that they end up driving towards it? Well that's a metaphor for me and mom jeans (incorrect grammar, correct sentiments). I'm just sayin', I get it in a way. When you're pregnant, you wear this bands on your pants that go up to your freakin' armpits and you feel somehow safe and secure. Like, you know your pants are on. And that feels good. I like knowing that. I've had issues with that in the past (that sounds accidently skanky. Not like I accidently said something that sounds skanky, but that I found self being skanky accidently.)
Plus my tush looks good in mom jeans.
FINE! I'll wear the mom jeans!
I miss my husband, but it's good that I'm having some time to myself to figure out my life in Washington... finally.
-Me
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3 comments:
Its called "self reflection", a thing that goes missing with all the gadgetry and relationships consuming our time.
I LOVE mom jeans. In fact I'm wearing them right now. For one thing,they're the only things that fit well and for another, I can eat a ton and not feel my pants getting tight! (Also, I look HAWT in them...I might have made that last one up...) :)
just when you figure it out....it'll be time to move. :)
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