Picture Day Tomorrow
Entry 1 9:00 a.m. Tomorrow is the eight-week scan . It starts very early. I don't know where the fuck I am going to park. I have to go to a parking garage with my jeep, that still has the roof box on it. Maybe I will get it off tonight, I hope. Jenny, who can do it sans ladder, can't help anymore. I think she never thought she'd be this sick--who can blame her refusal to admit it early in the journey. Now, last night she talked about needing to finish her "funeral stuff" a marked shift. Can we go back to the bad old days of her not being sick, and us barely interacting? Me not knowing she is cheating, but suspecting something was off-kilter? Of Leiney and I hanging out, talking politics with Abby baking in the tiny kitchen? I don't want to deal with anything outside my tiny bubble. It gets smaller all the time. John Travolta's got nothing on me . Work is so busy, Jenny so sick, the house such a time suck, that I am working here in less th...