I have no time for me. No time to write, no time to read the beautiful words of all the wonderful people I've met here. No time to remember that one year ago today I had just started my new job and was still unaware that I was pregnant. No time to be so frustrated that I've been bleeding since one day after I ovulated. No time to be aggravated at myself for being frustrated; after all, there was a damn reason I had to resort to clomid. It's not going to fix itself, even if I secretly hope it will. I'm sad, and exhausted, and so antsy. I so badly need a break and I just don't see a way to get one. I find myself hoping I'll get fired so I can get unemployment and food stamps. I could spend a few weeks at home, pretending to look for work (like my husband tends to do when he is out of work). That tells me how desperate I'm getting. I love my job - it's the best one I've ever had.
Something has to give.
On a more positive note, I saw something really cool while out sampling the other day. Don't look if you are tenderhearted and like frogs.