Deep thoughts; erratic happenings

Pregnancy after loss entails tons of blood draws (more than with low-risk pregnancy), because they test for all sorts of clotting disorders and shit. So the other day, I had my blood taken by a phlebotomist who I thought introduced himself to me as Mike, but then I noticed his nametag said Mondrakus, which is one badass name, if you ask me. Continue reading

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign

I’ve noticed some signs popping up around my workplace. (Not signs from above, but, like literally, signs.) And though I make no secret that I’m frequently disenchanted with work these days, I don’t know whether I could ever leave either, because my workplace is quite the magnet for these types of distractions that make me smirk on a regular basis. Continue reading

Thoughts; occurrences

Oddly enough, I find the shit show that is American politics to be a welcome distraction sometimes. It’s like its own reality show as of late, and it’s relatively non-triggering. (I mean Hillary and Bernie and Ted and Donald aren’t going to be announcing pregnancies any time soon, amiright? Because they’re like 70. Except I guess Ivanka is pregnant with her third child. Can she please step out of the view of the camera lens? For me?) But anyway, on Tuesday night I watched some CNN coverage of the New Hampshire primaries. My favorite part? John Kasich boasting about winning in Dixville Notch, of course. Continue reading

On simplicity vs. the Frantic Urge to Kill Silence

Since Matthew died, I’ve been reminded some people suffer from an affliction called Frantic Urge to Kill Silence (FUKS). A conversation’s taking place, more than four seconds of silence ensue, and BAM – FUKSers’ (not to be confused with fuckers, though I suppose situations exist in which the two come dangerously close to becoming one in the same) heads start spinning. And it’s as if they’re on a merry-go-round. An extremely fast merry-go-round. On a Jamaican playground. Being pushed by a young Usain Bolt. Continue reading

Tavern-stamping my way through life

A few years ago, during the economic downturn, I’d just begun employment with an accounting firm. Pretty soon after, I met an (eventually) infamous intern (later nicknamed Tavern). Due to the common cut-backs in hiring of this era, most interns were super concerned with proving their worth. But not Tavern. Tavern was living the (new) American dream – life with a huge trust fund in his back pocket, where a day at the office was indistinguishable from a day at the frat house. Continue reading