Comfortable With Conformity
June 9th I am ready to see a gynecologist. This week, I am going to call for an appointment. I'm nervous but curious. I really want to go on the pill. There's something so grown-up and hip about visiting the gynecologist and going on birth control and all that. S said the hardest thing for me is making the appointment, and he's right. I just can't seem to pick up the phone and make the call. I have another job interview Wednesday, for a teaching position at a school for autistic kids. Here we go again. Time to don the jacket and pants combo, the closed-toed shoes and the freshly printed resume. Time to get painful gas cramps in the morning on the drive over to the school. That happens to me whenever I get nervous-- I feel like I have to go to the bathroom. When I was younger, I used to throw up. The gastrointestinal pressure is a lot easier to take. Life is boring, boring, boring. S has been sick with a cough forever, so I haven't seen him in over a week. I've been working out diligently, and oh, last night at Outback. I impressed myself by declining loaf after loaf of free bread and butter plus cheese and bacon fries. I wolfed down a No Rules burger, starving, and picked at my too-spicy mashed potatoes. I'm getting waaay too involed with my Sims. Betty has a job now, and she's made a good friend in Bella, and I've spiffed up their house. They've got a nice ass bed, TV, coffee maker, big, plush couch and halogen lamp. I'm very good to my Sims. I need a life. |