The Half-Assiest

This semester has to be, by far, the worst I one I’ve ever experienced. I chalk it up to a general lack of enthusiasm toward college, after five years and no degree, attending pretty much full-time all those years. Also, needing to work 30-35 hours per week, on top of my 13 credits. Oh, and the peanut (now more like a grapefruit) sucking all intelligence, nutrients, and energy from within my uterus.

I have written some of the worst papers I’ve penned since high school (in terms of lack of focus and editing/drafts), and I would not be surprised to find that GPA I struggled so hard to pull up (currently a 3.7-ish) plummeted below a 3.5. I can already see my chances for graduate school slipping away. I’ll have to write one of those excuse-me sort of statements if I do apply, apologizing for my lack of concentration, and starting the first of a lifetime of blaming my stupidity on my kid.

Speaking of the peanut, our first appointment with the new OB is Wednesday afternoon. I have an 8am final (a review session for which I actually attended this morning, despite the struggle my body put up to keep me from getting out of bed at seven on a Monday when I knew I didn’t have to be on campus), but will probably come home afterwards, rather than spending all day doing nothing at school before the appointment. I’m sure I’ll have another gallon of blood removed, and may or may not have to shave my legs. Again. My main concern right now (besides the entire concept of birth, infancy, childhood, adolescence, and college savings plans) is whether or not I will need to go back on Zoloft in the third trimester. I have always been concerned about postpartum depression, and how at risk I may be. That is to say, a lot.

Charlie’s application to our old employer appears to have been overlooked, despite the Human Resources department’s apparent enthusiasm about his re-applying. They’ve hired at least three different people since Charlie applied, only one of which stayed more than a couple of days.
I did, however, make a few connections at work and discovered that today is the last day he can apply for a muckity-muck type job with the federal government downtown. I won’t say what right now, but he would get preference since he’s a veteran. The pay is even better than he would have been making had he gotten the other job, and the benefits, of course, would be stellar. It’s the gubment.

I’m not going to relay my entire schedule this week, but I am pretty sure that my social life has been on hold for the past 8 days and may not restart for another 7 days. And, about 6 months from now, it will probably be on hold for another 18 or so years. Just do you know, if you want to plan anything with me.

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One thought on “The Half-Assiest

  1. I’m sure you’ve read it already, but Dooce has a really interesting post about antidepressants during pregnancy. Having been on them myself before, I subscribe to the Dooce philosophy of the a happy person is a better person in general to those around her. Talk to the doc and do what you need to do -don’t let the noise drown out any instincts you have about it.

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