you can check out any time you like...
Yesterday, I was feeling too sorry for myself to blog. (Yeah, I know. Unhealthy and all that BS. Meh.) Today, I'm doing better. Feeling much more like kicking someone/something. (That has to be productive, right??)
But for the short term, I'm in Limbo, and there's not a whole lot to see here. All the tourist attractions apparently went out of business long before my arrival. The sidewalks fold up at night, and there's a curfew on Main Street. (Damn that travel agent! Those colorful brochures were just a ruse.)
I remember this place. I've been here before, under slightly different circumstances though. There was that seven-week stay here in December, and a nine-week trip in June. Ah, good times -- trying like mad to pass the days when you feel like the second hand of your clock is moving in slow motion -- never mind the blocks of the calendar. (Better accomodations then, but both trips ended rather abruptly.) I can remember my stays like they were yesterday -- how warm and inviting the rooms looked, and how comfortable I tried to get there. How much I didn't want to leave.
This time, the trip is different. I've gotten a deal on a cheap room, but it has none of the amenities. (The mattress is lumpy as hell.) I can see familiar faces checking in at the place across the street, and they're scared -- they don't know what to expect, and they know that their stay could be cut short without notice. I wouldn't say I'm jealous, exactly -- I know that my self-booked trip to Limbo is easier on the mind than theirs -- but I can't help but think about being back there again.
---
I'm in a weird place right now. *Not* trying to get "back there" is an odd feeling, every month. Whereas G used to always seem more , umm, amorous during my non-fertile times, now that we're on strict orders not to conceive, it appears that his fertile sensor has perked up and he's feeling frisky. And I'm almost ashamed to admit this, but I'm terrified to let him near me -- of all the years I *didn't* get pregnant using birth control, now would probably be the one time that I would, and I can't go there. Just. can't.
Waiting for a doctor's appointment is also tedious. Six weeks doesn't seem like that long when you're looking out into the future, but for some reason now that it's just over a week away, time has slowed to a crawl. Once I get through this appointment, there will likely be more waiting -- before and after surgery, if that's what it comes to -- but then I will have the ultimate challenge: will I be up for another extended trip?
(If I book early, can I get a good rate on a better room?)
But for the short term, I'm in Limbo, and there's not a whole lot to see here. All the tourist attractions apparently went out of business long before my arrival. The sidewalks fold up at night, and there's a curfew on Main Street. (Damn that travel agent! Those colorful brochures were just a ruse.)
I remember this place. I've been here before, under slightly different circumstances though. There was that seven-week stay here in December, and a nine-week trip in June. Ah, good times -- trying like mad to pass the days when you feel like the second hand of your clock is moving in slow motion -- never mind the blocks of the calendar. (Better accomodations then, but both trips ended rather abruptly.) I can remember my stays like they were yesterday -- how warm and inviting the rooms looked, and how comfortable I tried to get there. How much I didn't want to leave.
This time, the trip is different. I've gotten a deal on a cheap room, but it has none of the amenities. (The mattress is lumpy as hell.) I can see familiar faces checking in at the place across the street, and they're scared -- they don't know what to expect, and they know that their stay could be cut short without notice. I wouldn't say I'm jealous, exactly -- I know that my self-booked trip to Limbo is easier on the mind than theirs -- but I can't help but think about being back there again.
---
I'm in a weird place right now. *Not* trying to get "back there" is an odd feeling, every month. Whereas G used to always seem more , umm, amorous during my non-fertile times, now that we're on strict orders not to conceive, it appears that his fertile sensor has perked up and he's feeling frisky. And I'm almost ashamed to admit this, but I'm terrified to let him near me -- of all the years I *didn't* get pregnant using birth control, now would probably be the one time that I would, and I can't go there. Just. can't.
Waiting for a doctor's appointment is also tedious. Six weeks doesn't seem like that long when you're looking out into the future, but for some reason now that it's just over a week away, time has slowed to a crawl. Once I get through this appointment, there will likely be more waiting -- before and after surgery, if that's what it comes to -- but then I will have the ultimate challenge: will I be up for another extended trip?
(If I book early, can I get a good rate on a better room?)
posted by Lisa P. at 9:43 AM
4 Comments:
Wow! Powerful stuff. Personally, I'm getting comfortable in Limbo. Is that a bad sign? There are days I think I could just stay here forever. But I know eventually someone's going to come knocking on the door to throw me out...probably into the path of oncoming traffic with my luck.
At least you don't have bugs in your room. Do you?
Wish you were closer so I could refer you to my travel agent, Dr. H.
***many hugs***
Hoping the weeks pass quickly.
You can be intimate and use protection. Just a thought. Assvice: Don't give up that part of yourselves. I know it's hard but you deserve to be loved in many ways.
ah, the forbidden fruit...funny how absence makes the penis grow fonder.
may your time in limbo speed by!
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