So…. I did something. Remember the forlorn pumpkin from yesterday? I spent the day imagining the little kid who made it. He or she must be two or three. You know, too young to carve a pumpkin but old enough to want a pumpkin and to decorate it.
There’s a corner store on my walk to work that sells gourds (and Christmas trees, oddly, but that’s a different story) so I decided to get the sad pumpkin a friend. I was super pleased with myself until I arrived at the stoop. The sad little pumpkin was gone! With just a dirt ring to show where it used to be. I think some jerk probably stole it. It’s kind of a busy street like that, in the middle of the city.
I was in a quandary. Now my friend pumpkin would be all by itself if I left it. But the poor kid would have no pumpkins if I didn’t. Who am I kidding? I still planned to leave the pumpkin. So I did. My pumpkin replacement slash offering. Complete with stickers. Happy Halloween, kid.
My bracelet’s today are two horn bangles, my silver Tiffany’s bangle from Christmas 1993, and my Tuareg ebony and pounded silver cuff I used to wear everyday in the year 2K.
Alanna from White Girls Be Like posted a challenge, a competition! She’s hosting a Funny Blog Friday which sounds pretty alright. Since I’m competitive, and I like to think I’m funny despite my total inability to remember punchlines, I raised my hand.
But then I started re-reading my blogs. Turns out grief, bracelets, and infertility don’t make for a rollicking good time. So here’s a collection of my worst, darkest, least funny, most painful, absolutely terrible thoughts recently. Let me welcome you to rock bottom.
-If my dad were still alive we’d probably go to the baseball game tonight.
-My dad was the only person to ask me how my day went.
-It’s getting darker earlier and soon I’ll be walking home from work in the dark. Because my dad used to be my ride home and now he is dead. And nobody asks me how my day went anymore.
-How many rounds of IVF would it take to bankrupt my honey and me?
-If we do get pregnant, this kid will probably be an asshole because we’re over invested in the process.
-At the very least, he’ll have no toys. Because we spent all our money on making him.
-I don’t think my dogs like me as much as they used to and they’ll probably hate me if I get pregnant.
-Someday everybody I love will die, I think that’s how the lyrics go.
-If my husband and I both die with some frozen embryos still in the bank, will my brothers destroy the embryos? Even after all this hard work and money spent?
-What if my honey dies first?
-What if I die first with frozen embryos in the bank? Would my honey remarry?
-What kind of a woman would marry a widower who brings his own frozen embryos to the table?
-Obviously my destroyed frozen embryos and I must haunt my honey and his new wife if he decides to ditch the embryos.
-Will my dogs like my husband’s new wife better then me?
-Can I haunt them too?
-Will they even care?
-Dogs are probably only afraid of ghosts when the ghosts are haunting paper bags.
-When I’m not haunting my husband and his new wife, my afterlife will be spent haunting paper bags. Paper bags. While my husband and his new wife will be busy getting pregnant super easily.
-At least I’ll have my destroyed embryos to keep me company. And my dad. Who will definitely ask me how my day went.
-I’ll need to remember to update my dad on the whole paper bag situation.
-Maybe we can bring one to a ball game, depending on haunting policies.
-Or are there ghost leagues? I’d probably prefer those.
LOL bangle by Archetrend is available for $9.50