Someone let me off this damn boat. Hand me the Dramamine. Good god, man, make me some dry toast!

I'm so sick of being...sick. And tired. Jonathan was an easy pregnancy, easier than I really thought. I had it good. I lost 30 lbs, never felt healthier, had a "glow" or so I'm told, hardly had a belly, and was never sick. And all I've been lately is sick, and can't hardly eat. I guess since it's Mark's baby it's going to be rather difficult, taking after it's father. :-)

So my grandmother had her catharization, or however it is spelled, and it came out well. She didn't need the angioplasty, and might not need the stint. Seems her heart bypassed itself a bit. She, of course, is not pleased, since she has a death wish. I suppose I would too if I was married for so many years and dependant upon one man and then he died. So now my mother is calm again, she was freaking out over all of it.

So it's another uneventful Friday. I wish we could go to more shows, have some more fun until our complete social death sentance is handed to us in a few months, but alas. And we also have to get rid of the damn cat. I'm tired of my bathroom smelling of litter and piss. Doesn't help my stomach.

Alright well, I have better things to do besides ramble in this diary.

-Petra

written on 2003-06-13 at 12:39 p.m. by sweetsolace.

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