Due much in part to our lack of incomes in the spring, Mark and I did what a lot of poor people do who have very little else to entertain themselves: it. As a result, we are expecting a baby girl this spring. It was one in a string of surprises that led us to our current situation. A short timeline:
April: Mom has cancer
May: scramble to find jobs closer to home
June: Despair! Sex! Fighting! Make up sex!
July: find journalism job in Michigan by a miracle
• Move into parents’ basement
• Sister has wedding. Drink too much.
August: I’m pregnant. @#$@#$@
•Mark moves our stuff to Michigan
September: Mark unemployed and in my parents’ basement
October: Mark substitute teaching
• Parents run off to Italy for 3 weeks
November: We’re still in my parents’ basement
• Mom continues chemo
• Emotions toggle between happiness and terror every day.
Despite a lot of good things happening-my ma’s good response to chemo, my baby, my job, my supportive husband-I’ve been unhappy. I’ve been blaming it all on my living situation, my hormones, the fact that my mom’s sick at all- but I had a moment on a walk today when I realized those are just scapegoats. True, I’m almost 30, I live my parents’ basement, and I all I do at night is watch Battlestar Gallactica reruns with my unemployed husband. But all this stuff is happening around me, good stuff too, and I’m actually miserable, because I’m in a creative void. And it’s my fault. I stopped writing on this blog, in journals, with other writers-my hobby died. I vowed on my walk to self to make book of essays online, on another blog. To just start. And hopefully finish. Will blog on Cheap and Married about this new blog about progress. Four months to baby. And I want a draft to be born with her. We like Leila June.
