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Monday, July 30, 2012

Tim Gunning It



Okay, maybe that's a leetle melodramatic.  But sometimes you need a little calmingmanatee.  Like when you rent out the spare room in your home to sock away money for future infertility treatments, only to discover that your new housemate is pregnant.  I honestly am waffling between thinking, welp, this is an ironically cruel work of fate, or else it's the universe setting me up to write the next new awkward sitcom.  In my mind, Kristen Schaal would play me, and she would have this endless Mary Poppins-esque bag of witticisms from which to pull comments and asides.  It would need a catchy name.  "Wombmates" sounds great but makes it sounds more like a sitcom about twins.  But that's all I've got for now.  "Wombies" maybe?  "Green-Eyed Mom-ster"?

Of course, in reality, it's just me.  Well, us (me + Patrick).  No real sitcom plot.  No Mary Poppins bag of asides.  I'm not feeling sorry for myself or anything (okay maybe I am), it's just that the reality here is that what was just served up at the Life Buffet is kind of like week-old potato salad.  With olives and cilantro in it (because ew and ew -- I will do a happy dance with cilantro stops being popular).  And beets.  Or something.

I know everything will be okay.  Calming Manatee says so.



But right now, it feels like being kicked when you're already down.  As Patrick says, we just have to Tim Gunn this.  We have to make it work.  And carry on.  And rock the casbah.

But it's hard.  Even talking to the new housemate was like pulling teeth for me because while I don't mind talking to friends about the whole situation, and I don't mind talking to the Internet about it, somehow explaining this to someone I just met IRL is....uncomfortable.  Particularly when I know that it surely made *her* uncomfortable.  Sads all around.  (Though at least -- thank goodness -- I have enough sense and experience to have uncomfortable conversations be professional and to the point.  No boo-hooing or anything.  Mostly a "Hey, if I act weird or make things uncomfortable, that's totally me, not you.")  

If I may permit myself to wallow for a moment, it's really, really hard to have all of your friends and aquaintances have babies when you can't quite so easily (lab test confirmed, boo hiss) but then to have your safe-space of your home become invaded by pregnancy with the knowledge that for the next six months it's going to become more and more apparent...it's a whole different ballgame.  Obviously having pregnant people around me in the day-to-day is no big deal.  And pregnancy is not a zero-sum game.  But one's living space is different from one's out-and-about space.  Sharing a kitchen and bathroom with someone is different from sharing a cubicle and swapping emails and pleasantries and collaborating during the day.  I don't want to come across like some crazy person who can't be around certain people -- that's not true.  But living with someone is just a different kettle of fish; specifically a kettle I wouldn't have ordered knowingly.  Obviously I'm just going to have to bite the bullet and tough it out for the next six months because the only alternative is to break the lease we all signed together, which is just unethical and cruel.  We may be slumlords in our own home, but we aren't bad people.  
So, Blog-land, prepare thyselves for the ongoing saga-sitcom of my hilarious life.  

4 comments:

  1. I love your manatees. They are very soothing animals. You are a very strong woman and I admire you greatly. I didn't know you had lab tests telling you sad things either - but hopefully not too sad? I am a nosey parker. Anyhow - feel free to write me ranty e-mails if you every have the urge. I'm good for that sort of thing, promise. Have I mentioned yet how much I admire your fortitude? Indeed I do.

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  2. Thanks hon. We did get lab tests confirming male factor issues (not insurmountable, thankfully, but still depressing -- though it's kind of validating too, in that I feel better that we're not just getting upset for no reason, yanno? Even though I'd obviously rather have things come back a-okay). (I'm also lucky to have a husband who's not all "oh my god you can't tell anyone it's me" since he thinks societal gender norms and ideas of manliness are BS.)

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  3. Just saw this today... maybe it will help? http://unbaby.me/ "A chrome extension. Install and refresh facebook. All those annoying pictures of your friends' babies will be replaced by cats! "

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  4. oh man, that housemate situation would be rough :( sending some hugs your way!

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