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Mar. 3rd, 2033 | 03:33 am


All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be King...



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Good News

Feb. 22nd, 2018 | 07:53 pm
mood: excitedexcited
music: STP- Heaven & Hot Rods

It’s been a pretty okay week so far, aside from Kiddo not feeling well. Poor thing is constipated. I hate when that happens. I, myself, am currently constipated with frequent bouts of heartburn. I blame my diet… and maybe a little on being pregnant. Mark has been an absolutely savior by using some of his tax return to help me pay off bills that have been lingering for almost two years. By doing so, he helped Madonna too who was thrilled as well. I keep saying to myself “No one has ever done anything like this for me before” for a lot of things, like what he did today or when he drove six hours just to pick me up and drive back in time for Kiddo’s dentist appointment. Or our Valentine’s day retreat. He’s been an amazing part of my life. I’m literally still amazed by him everyday.

Madonna seems to be doing better. She got a new job that’ll hopefully provide more money for her lifestyle. She’s going to Disneyland next week too! I’m so jealous. I haven’t been in years. It used to be a trip a year, I grew up in SoCal so it was easy to get there. She’s taking care of herself and staying happy, or possibly comfortably numb, I’m not sure. We’ve started to video chat every Sunday and it’s been nice. I actually look forward to it. It’s truly nice to keep in touch with her because my mind drifts to horrible places where she’s not alive anymore and I have no parents. Ugh. Even though I’m on an even keel emotionally right now, late at night, my mind will wander in that morbid direction. Is that normal?

I gave in and decided to let Ursula throw me a baby shower. I’m flying down there at the end of March. Suzanne is doing the grunt work for her and I’m completely fine with this. She’s so creative, I’ve seen it first hand. I chose a color scheme, pink and teal, and gave my cousin a list of emails for girls I wanted to invite. She’s made custom invitations and a website to make RSVPing convenient. I feel so blessed. Plus I’m so excited to be in the desert again! I’m flying into San Diego which is a bit annoying but whatever. It’ll be fine. I’m just grateful that I get to go. I love having a trip planned in my future. It makes me happy thinking about it. This’ll be my last trip “alone”, without a child of my own in tow. I’m already nostalgic and I haven’t even left the “good times” lol no disrespect to my future children but life changes after becoming a parent. No longer is just about me, it’s about providing the best life I can for them and my husband. Speaking of which, Mark has set the wheels in motion on finalizing his divorce and on the inside, I’m screaming “shazam!”. It’s happening. It’s really happening. I can’t wait to officially, legally, spiritually be his. He’s an amazing person whose imperfections only make him mortal in my eyes (which is a good thing) unlike previous boyfriends who I regretfully put on a pedestal. I’ve finally found someone I’m completely in love with. Of course I’m still insecure because of my past relationships and occasionally that shows but I’ll eventually forget about them. We were speaking yesterday about a ride to the airport and he mentioned George’s girlfriend who is short and cute and blonde. So out of jealousy, I snapped back with “why her?”. The next day he wanted to address it and I spoke my truth. He ended the conversation saying that he didn’t “do” jealousy and that would be awkward because she’s like a sister to him to which I replied with “I understand.” Then he picked that apart, calling my bluff, saying that I often say that and don’t mean it. He cares enough to notice, awww. On that subject, I just have to keep in mind his past and that he’s not that person. And we’re not that couple. SO anyway, I’m very excited about that little vacay coming up. Unfortunately I’ve chosen Easter weekend on accident for this event and so far, two gals can’t come, one of which I’m sad I won’t be able to see but oh well. Maybe next time. I really want to make a vacation to my hometown an annual tradition, even with my daughter. I have to keep that saying that, getting used to it.

Today Mark told me that by quitting my job I’ve alleviated a lot of stress from his life and allowed him to take a full-time job by taking care of Kiddo and other things. I just about fell in love a little harder when he said it.

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Amazing Valentine's Day Retreat

Feb. 18th, 2018 | 03:33 pm
mood: lovedloved
music: Seether- Blister

I really should have recorded all on my thoughts on my Valentine’s weekend as they occurred or even sooner but I just had to write down what I felt. It was gorgeous. Absolutely amazing. We left on Tuesday, the day before Valentine’s day, and headed off to the coast. Mark had found this little Bed and Breakfast tucked away countryside and our experience was so incredible. The house had been built with wood from a ship that had sunk just off the coastline back in the 1800s so it had a great nautical theme. The room came with a ginormous bed (and I think Egyptian sheets with a high thread count, they were marvelous), a jacuzzi tub for two, a fireplace, and our own private patio. There was a comforting fountain just outside as well. Mark had mentioned that he didn’t plan on leaving the room and at first, I thought that was nuts, but that’s kinda what happened. Obviously there were intimate moments that I’ll keep to myself, but we just hung out with each other. We watched a ton of movies, all of which I had never seen. We played some Warcraft. The best part (besides spending quality time with him) were the breakfasts for sure! They were absolutely delicious! I saved the menus because each breakfast came with a personalized card and such. The whole experience made me want to start scrapbooking. Take all the pictures and memorabilia about my life, Kiddo’s life, our new baby’s life so we can have them to reminisce when we’re older. I loved having a photo album of my adventures in Europe and it’s been one of the biggest regrets of my life losing it. I have so many pictures and I know it’ll be overwhelming at first but my phone and computer can help me with the dates. Anyway! Our weekend away was great. We loved the hot tub and I especially loved that we just hung out in our white robes for the last day. It was relaxing and a great experience. It was refreshing being away from the house and everyone for a little while. Once this baby comes, I suppose there won’t be many romantic, quiet nights away. No one has ever done something like that for me. I’m still amazed by this man. I still can’t believe that I found someone worthy and loving. Sure it took a while to crack his shell, but he’s a man. I truly felt romance on this Valentine’s Day. I feel like fate brought us together and somehow, we’re just meant to be with one another.

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Stupid Monday

Feb. 12th, 2018 | 04:03 pm
mood: contentcontent
music: System of a Down- Mr. Jack

What a shitty Monday it’s been. I don’t know why, maybe because it’s Monday, but I woke up mad. It’s a bit annoying waking up to George’s friends partying in the garage. Like seriously, they’re three feet away from each other and they’re screaming! Every other word is the F word and each laugh or sound effect is louder than the last. I think what’s most annoying is that they’re in the garage but George isn’t home. He’s at work. Away from the house… Sooo why the fuck are his friends here? It’s something I know will never be enforced in the house but still… How would everyone like it if three of my friends came over, had a screaming party in the garage while I was away at work for hours? It’s weird. And it happens every couple of months (the party). Typically George has one friend that hangs out in the garage all day sometimes because he lives with his Mom and can’t be himself aka can’t smoke around her. It’s quite bullshit. Sometimes he’ll show up at 1am just to head to the garage for five minutes and then leave. It’s weird and intrusive. I try to keep the doors locked now.

It’s been almost two weeks now but I quit my job. I feel pretty pathetic doing such a thing but I just feel like nesting for a while. I’ve been working full-time for the majority of my work life and Mark is generous enough to let me slide for a while. There’s also the fact that I may, in the most modest way possible, deserve it… not because of Mark by any means; he’s been amazing; But having to take care of Lee for the first half and struggle my way through the 20s, which was my fault entirely. Anyway, I’m getting off topic. So, in my own words, this is what happened. I was standing at my check stand when a manager hands me the almighty yellow phone. It was my main manager who wanted to speak to me about Valentine’s Day.

“How important is this time off you’ve requested?” she said.

“Well, I requested it off when I first started as soon as I found out… It was a Christmas gift…. Reservations have been made… Time off has been requested..”

“Ok it’s just, that’s Valentine’s day. We get pretty busy.”

-Long pause.

“Oh dear.” I muttered.

-Another long pause.

“Ok then. Let me mess with everyone else’s schedule to accommodate that for you, Ok? Bye.” she replied, with two tons of attitude.

I was a little shook up. Not only had I stepped up to the plate by accepting the “shittiest job in the store” that was mostly “given to high schoolers”, but now she was getting extra nasty with me. Let me be clear: She and I did not get off to a great start and that was her fault. On the last day of my orientation, one of my final tasks was to meet her and ask some questions. Granted it was busy the week before Christmas, that was to be expected, but from the moment I met her, she couldn’t give me the time of day. All my questions about our department for her were answered by other people that she seemed to leave me with… then I’d have to find her and answer the next question. You know? I mean, it was ridiculous that she couldn’t spend five to ten minutes with me and get the reigns of the department to another manager because there were plenty to choose from on the floor, there always was. When I accepted the shit job in the store, I did it well. I didn’t call off, even after telling them I was four months pregnant. I feel like the store manager had to remind this manager to be nice and show concern because the next time I saw her after giving her the news, she had this fake-as-hell smile and asked how I was feeling, if I was liking the job so far. I’m serious. Fake. As. Hell. I cringed inside while I lied to her shit-eating grin about how great things were and how I was looking forward to the training for my real position.

So back to being hung up on. Not five minutes later, the phone at my check stand starts ringing and it’s a different manager (mostly likely in the office with the main manager). She tells me that the day before my mini Valentine’s vacation, I’d be working the shit job for a shift. All I could say was “alright” and “thank you”. I didn’t ask why. Because I was knew why. Clearly I was being retaliated against. It screwed me up for the rest of my shift. It was my Friday so I felt sort of okay about being away from that place but deep down, I was pissed. Pissed that this bitch spoke to me in such a way after all the crap I did. For the record, I didn’t want to be the back-up cart pusher. There was never a conversation about me doing both jobs. I had completed the training that was required the actual position that I was hired for so that was like a promotion right? Anyway, after leaving that place, I figured that I was done helping out, coming in on my day off to cover a call out because the job sucks so much. Working half a cashier, half a cart pusher shift. Fuck that. After a discussion with Mark the morning of my shift back, I decided not to return. I wasn’t going back and I felt this huge boulder was lifted off my shoulders. I guess I’m a complainer, I don’t know (but I do), but my experience there was ridiculous and thank-less. I realize it’s a job, they’re thanking me with money, but working those hard ass shifts, in the rain sometimes, while pregnant… doesn’t that warrant some kind of respect? Can’t my bitch of a boss treat me a nicer, like she did with everyone else? I guess not. So that’s how I left. No phone call. No dropping in to give them a piece of my mind. Nothing. I just faded away. That bitch will never know why I left. Maybe she’ll have an inkling though because I didn’t come back after our swift altercation over the phone. I had my two days off but then didn’t return, you know? I doubt she’ll say anything because it’ll make her look bad. And if she did, she’d probably make me out to be the bad guy because she’s exactly that kind of person. I meant to just tell my story about quitting but this really became a rant about her. She was just such an awful person to work with. Everyone would talk shit or make passive aggressive comments about her performance as a manager. So anyway, that was the last straw.

George has finally come to realization that he’s enabling his friend and I love it. This friend, whom I’ve mentioned before, comes over and just loiters in the garage. He also hangs out in the kitchen, in the living room, all while George isn’t home. It’s strange. George mentioned to me the other day how this friend had made some comment about how one of their friends in enabling another friend to not do anything with their life and it suddenly clicked in his head. He’s doing the same thing for this friend, who turns down every job opportunity or suggestion and consumes a lot of his booze and puff. He’ll just come over and play his music in the garage and just hang out. Then he’ll slip away, sometimes to return later in the evening, sometimes for only five minutes. It’s weird that the doors aren’t locked here. Anyway, I was proud of George to realize this on his own. He’s maturing.

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Ugly Inside

Jan. 28th, 2018 | 04:03 pm
mood: gloomygloomy
music: Nirvana- Marigold

I’ve noticed that this has been a really depressing week. From the let-down on Monday (not finding out the gender) to Madonna stressing me out about Ramsay to Mark not really speaking to me as much. I called off of work today because I honestly didn’t feel like going. Of course there’s a part of me that cares but there’s a large part that doesn’t really care. I feel like I disappointed him or something. When I told him I had called out, his behavior toward me changed. I feel like this call-out was depression induced. I just can’t seem to stay continually happy anymore. I suppose I’m filling the void with food and unnecessary junk as well. It’s a vicious cycle. Also I’ve been extremely paranoid that Mark is cheating on me. I feel ugly on the inside so why would Mark want to be with someone like me? These insecurities are not attractive, ergo another reason for him to seek comfort elsewhere. Do I even comfort him? In times where he’s visibly upset and won’t open up to me, I don’t try to break down his walls because that just makes him more mad. I give him space and quietly cry to myself, knowing I failed at getting on his good side or being a source of comfort for him. I feel worthless in this relationship. Suppose I feel like this because I did the bare minimal today? I don’t know. It would absolutely crush me if he was talking his cuntfaced ex. It would shatter everything I’ve been telling myself for almost two years now. It would shatter me if he was talking with anyone in that sort of nature period. We don’t spend any time together anymore. Real time. But when I try to define Real Time, I’m lost for words. Just the two of us, making conversation, sharing stories and memories and ideas. I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore. And with this baby on the way, it doesn’t make anything easier.

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Sourdough Bread Debacle

Jan. 27th, 2018 | 03:53 pm
mood: frustratedfrustrated
music: MSI- Get It Up

Currently I’m sitting outside of Kiddo’s dance class, wishing it would start already so I can leave this parent filled room and head for the cafe next door. I’m determined to buy a muffin (maybe) and a loaf of bread. Real bread. Not this fucking Sara Lee crap bread that we have at the house. All of this bread really hurts my stomach and I’m afraid to say anything. For fear of sounding snobby. I’ve actually been called a food snob by Mark and it didn’t make me feel good. I’m sure he’ll never know of the mental damage because I’m so sensitive lol

Update: after spending twenty minutes overthinking my bread purchase, I decided on a sourdough round and some discounted croissants that I was so happy to put in my reusable bag. I got distracted by pictures of Kiddo during the performance last year and left my bag in the lobby of the studio. Dammit! And of course they never answer their phone so I can’t even ask if it’s still there. Oh well. I’ll have to go back on Tuesday because that’s the only time I know when they’re open and hope that someone turned it in. I mean, it was only in the lobby. Ugh. I was really looking forward to some sourdough bread tonight. Damn!

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Jan. 26th, 2018 | 03:53 pm
mood: annoyedannoyed
music: Tupac- All About U

It’s been almost a whole month. There have been plenty of opportunities to sit down and record my thoughts but it always gets sidetracked or put on the back burner. Currently I’m juggling a class for a potential new job, a current job that I’m learning about and unfortunately can’t stand, a Mother who needs major help and I can’t do anything for her, a home filled with people (some of whom don’t really care about the others) who can be so lazy. I’m constantly in tears, I’ll bet Mark is truly sick of it. Yesterday Madonna asked me if I could take my cat back and of course Mark said no. This is such a touchy topic for me because I really love that cat. I’m sure Madonna sees me as a selfish bitch who DOESN’T want to help but that isn’t the case. She’s losing it in her “new life” and I can’t save her. I have no money and no place of my own. If I still had my apartment, things would be different but I don’t. I live under someone else’s roof and follow someone else’s set of rules. I cried myself to sleep last night knowing I may never see my cat again and that I can’t help her. So she contributes with the guilt the very next day. Did I mention how I’m pregnant and I cry at the drop of a hat? I cry about everything. I really feel like it’s effecting my relationship with Mark, who I’m still nervous around. Yes, that’s right. I’m afraid to be myself around him even though we’re having a child together.

This class is becoming more and more bullshit as it soaks up more and more of my time. I swear I make about 150 notecards per chapter. I’m dreading the final exam because I won’t have my notecards or the book in front of me like I do now for references or a quick knowledge check. I like to think that it’s bullshit because of everything I’ve got going on, honestly. Learning new things for a job in the future and learning new things for a current job have fried my brain.

This job is absolute crap. I mean, I’m glad to be out of the rain and the cold, but now cashiering... I feel different. I stress out about not knowing different procedures for things and stress out about people waiting on me while I bag their shit up or while I’m waiting for a manager to make things right. I stress out about bagging people’s groceries, especially if they have their own bags. I stress out when I realize I forgot to put a bag in their cart. I’m just stressed. All the time. I watch the clock constantly, waiting for when I have to leave. Today I asked to leave early because I just can’t hold in my tears. Madonna is making things worse by telling me she won’t ask for anything anymore and it’s like really? Why aren’t people more emotionally intelligent? I know she’s going through a lot (a lot of which she chose to go through, just like me) but can’t she see that I’m in pain as well knowing I can’t help? She’s helped me plenty of times and it kills me that I can’t do the same. She probably thinks I take pleasure in saying that I can’t help when actually it’s the opposite. Mark can say “no” no problem but I can’t. She’s my mother.

Momma bear and I had a conversation a few days about how our house is filled with adults but she feels like she has to do everything around the house. I completely agree. I had to throw in there that it isn’t fair that one person happens to be good at something and therefore ends up doing it for everyone else (ie putting the fucking roll of toilet paper on the actual roll and throwing away the empty toilet paper packaging or taking the fucking recycling out). She may do the majority of the dishes and cook the meals but she doesn’t do everything. There’s four other adults in our household who are perfectly capable of cleaning up after themselves. I don’t want to finish your laundry for you, you should have done that yourself. And it’s petty to think like that, but nine times out of ten, Mark’s brother leaves his wet clothes in the washer until someone comes along and puts them in the dryer, you know, because they want to do their own fucking laundry. I didn’t sign up for that bullshit but no one pays fucking rent so it’s just bullshit.

I realized last night that no offense to Mark but I have no real comfort in my life. Food? Sure. Puff? Eh: I’m always riddled with guilt about it nowadays. My mom has left the state with my cat in tow; everything is different than what it was two years ago. I’ve often wondered what part of my life would I go back to and live again and now I truly believe it would be living at the Landlord’s house with my Mom and all her cats and my room set up just the way I liked it and having time to myself but being able to see her and go to the movies or out to breakfast or just to go grocery shopping and having my old job back where I made amazing money compared to now. All of these “shitty” decisions... they keep destroying me over and over again. Especially that I can’t take my cat back, who seemed to be the real comfort provider. I love Ramsay. When Madonna sends me pictures of him, I tear up a bit and wish I could smell and kiss him. Mark will never understand the bond I have with that cat. He can just heartlessly say no and be fine with it then continue to ask me why I’m so weepy. I’m honestly afraid to go home for fear of not being able to stop myself from bawling. Who wants to be around someone who’s normally happy and cheerful but instead remains in tears and barely speaks? He hates it and has fired back with a mirror of my behavior. I don’t like it. And I don’t like being mocked either. We’re not going through the same things so he has no right to do that but still. I understand his philosophy.

I bought a box of dog biscuits for these two homeless-looking idiots and their dog that were hanging out at our store virtually all day yesterday. I went to the same spot for lunch today and the box was there, unopened. And they were still there, but at a different table. Like wtf universe? I try to do something nice and it backfires like that. What a waste.

Mark has finally decided to play Warcraft with me and you’d think I would be happy about it but with everything that’s going on, I’m not. I just feel fragile. Fragile and worthless. And now I have a child on the way. How am I supposed to be a good mother if I can’t even keep it together? I have no one to talk to about these feelings. Mark listens when he can but there’s just too much and I’m too modest to take up all of his time like that.

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Happy New Year?

Jan. 1st, 2018 | 11:43 pm
mood: irateirate
music: Dethklok- Birthday Dethday

My day started in tears and ended in... normalcy? Idk. I woke up to a voicemail from one of the bosses at work saying I was on the schedule for today and Wednesday so I had to mentally prepare myself for work... which wasn’t easy. I think what pisses me off the most about this situation is that everyone got their schedules two weeks ago. I feel like I was on call, which fuck that. I did leave my number and said to call if they needed help and call when they knew of a fucking training class coming up but wow. I didn’t appreciate being told four hours before I was suppose to be there about my shifts. And my boss, the piece of chicken shit that she is, had one of her lackey’s call and leave a message. Of course Mark saw me in tears and let me vent a little bit. I feel like each time I do this, I become less attractive to him. Like, I can’t handle a simple job like pushing fucking carts, how am I gonna be a mom? It took a lot out of me just to make it to work. Metallica was essential and a bit of puff to help forget all my feelings of animosity. It has been anything but easy getting onboard with this company, I swear. If they had told me that if I miss the job training class and the next one won’t be for at least a month and I’d be doing parcel in the meantime, I would have rearranged things. For sure. Again, my job is bullshit. I met the “senior” person today and he’s nineteen years old. Nineteen. Fucking hell. I’ve got more hours on Wednesday and next week. Then maybe, the very next week, I’ll have a class to take and THEN can do my job. You know, the job I fucking applied/was hired for.

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Dear 2017

Dec. 31st, 2017 | 03:33 pm
mood: hopefulhopeful
music: Rammstein- Mein Land

Dear 2017,

I’ll make this short and sweet: you were one of the most tumultuous years I’ve ever lived. I think I’ve used that word in every letter that I write to the previous year but you were distinctly the definition of tumultuous. From transferring to a new store, realizing I’ve made a huge mistake then trying to transfer back; From my boyfriend saying he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to love me to playing an amusing game of show-then-tell later on in the year; From quitting my job to save my sanity then struggling to find a replacement for my replacement job; From completely moving in with Mark to getting pregnant! You have been, without a doubt, a bittersweet but memorable year. Let’s hope I learned my lesson about job stability and adulting.

I haven’t put much thought into New Years resolutions. Kinda getting tired of the New-Year-New-Me bullshit, letting myself down every February. I did jot down a few things that I’d like to do though:

  1. Stop making bad decisions.

  2. Don’t overthink things.

  3. Find job stability, even if it’s part time.

  4. Make schooling a priority, stay on the straight and narrow, stop getting distracted!

  5. Be grateful for what you have, every little convenience.

  6. As always, save money.

  7. Be a good (step)Mom.

  8. Cook More!!

  9. Read more!!

  10. For God’s sake, lose some weight!

Ok those last three I threw in at the last minute but I’d still like to keep them in perspective. There’s a lot to hope for next year and if I keep my head on straight, everything should be just fine.

Here’s to 2018!

Chelsea Mimieux Klein

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Christmas Update

Dec. 26th, 2017 | 11:03 pm
mood: contentcontent
music: Guns 'n Roses- Down On The Farm

Life is always nice after a shower. I never took advantage of that as a kid. I feared the shower, absolutely hated taking them. It was worse in college. It wasn’t until about twenty-five years old I realized the importance of showering, not just for hygiene’s sake but for the mind, for the soul. It feels good to be clean.

Christmas was nice. Everyone liked their gifts. I finally decided on getting Mark a 3D puzzle of his favorite Star Wars character since he knew the other gifts I was getting him. I’m not sure if he’ll ever put it together but it’s the thought that counts. He put one together a while back (on that fateful day where he told me that he didn’t know if he could ever love me) so I figured that would be nice. It reminded me that what he says isn’t always in stone. Just like when he had made up his mind about not being with me months and months ago. Anyway! Damn, I didn’t mean to fly off the handle and slander his character. Mark had given me a romantic three day weekend away in February... so basically a Valentine’s day gift for Christmas. I swear, every year lol I set the bar a little lower with each “major” gift-giving holiday and he finds a way to limbo his way under it. Everyday is like Christmas with him (how cliched to say lol) so it’s not a big deal. Madonna gave me some hoodies and other fun stuff. Leo sent his annual check which is always nice but like every year, it’s basically spent. I had to pay back my credit card or Mark would have been mad. He told me to ask him for Christmas money but that never happened. He hasn’t asked me where I got the money to send gifts to my family and he probably never will. I hate pointing out the fact that none of my family was together this Christmas but I must. Leo was with his “girlfriend” while Ursula spent time in Palm Springs with her family, Denis went to LA to “hang out” with homeless people, Madonna was with her new husband’s family, and I was with... well my new family. It’s interesting to note that this was my last Christmas of not being a mom. I received a gift certificate to a spa from Mark’s Brother, Mum, and Da. They specifically wanted me to go for a prenatal massage but I’m having other things done. The day spa’s website mentioned how the prenatal massage helps with sore feet and other symptoms I haven’t experienced yet so I’m wondering if I should wait until I am or just go because my eyebrows and toenails are out of control.

I’ve got the toothache from hell right now. It slightly keeps me up at night and is extremely sensitive. Of course brushing and flossing more doesn’t help my situation. I have to make an appointment with a dentist. A new dentist which I hate but I have different insurance now. Which is bollocks.

I checked the work schedule before I took off for Christmas and noticed that I wasn’t on it. There was a note left for a manager to call me about his matter but they won’t call. It’s pay day on Thursday so I was going to inquire. They’re caught between a rock and a hard place with me being pregnant and no suitable positions available. I don’t mind waiting but they have to let me know. Pay day on Thursday. I’m relieved because I also need a hair cut. Maybe some color too.

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