sometimes when i am leaving drake after class, i start to get really scared about walking to my car in the dark.
okay… not sometimes. all of the time. i am so scared of the dark, and i hate to even think about what might be hiding under (or inside!!!) of my car.
to control my fear during that walk i often find myself talking out loud in reassurance mode. i tell myself that it is okay if someone is under the car waiting to cut my achille’s tendon. it is okay if someone wants to then drag my limp body to a big white van (with no windows) and kidnap/kill me.
does this really happen? no. would i really be okay with someone cutting my ankles and kidnapping me? absolutely not. should i stop watching scary movies? yes.
its just that telling myself that bad things might happen just helps me realize that if something is going to happen, it is out of my control anyway, and most likely (since i am such a strong, brave woman) i will end up being fine.
a couple of weeks ago i noticed that my boobs were really hurting me. (i promise this story will come back around…) now, i have a pretty good sized pair of girls, so i thought maybe my bra was just not right, or something. but when i noticed the pain a few days later i decided that maybe it was something else.
when pain, rashes, mysterious lumps, etc. appear in my life i immediately turn to the all-knowing google. i mean seriously, we all know that the matronal goddess hiding away in new york determines what information the google relays back to us, so how could asking the google about my breast pain be a bad idea?
well the mother computer relayed (through her little bitch, the google) that i had two options relating to my boobs… either i had breast cancer or i was pregnant.
hmmm…. suck and suck.
the next morning i woke up panicked because i had a dream that i was pregnant.
okay. first the mother computer, then the google and now god. i was out of my mind to think that i wasn’t pregnant, who else is there to consult??
i did something that i have never done before. i went to the store to look for a pregnancy test. i have never bought a pregnancy test before… i have no idea where they are located, what the price might be or how many freaking choices one would have in the purchase! damn!
after i found them, right next to the tampons…. oh the irony, target. my heart was pounding, i was sure that everyone in the store was looking at me. i felt like a teenager trying to buy condoms or liquor. i had this overwhelming urge to shout at the people (who were obviously looking at me…) “what?! i am 26 years old! i am married, we can have sex! we could be pregnant if we wanted! that is allowed! i am married, dammit!”
on a side note: i have never felt the need to justify my marital status. shit, sometimes i can’t even call derek my husband, cause it just feels so fun to call him my boyfriend.
after what seemed like an eternity of scanning the front of the boxes (i clearly could not pick each one up and read the details on the back…) i decided on the most expensive. when in doubt, pay the most money, right?! that means it has to be the best and will no doubt, give me the answer that i am looking for…
well, then came the problem of the checkout line. even though i was quietly mumbling my age throughout the entire store and carrying the damn thing with my left hand (to naturally show my wedding ring) i felt the need to pick up a few other things so i would not have to pay for just ONE PREGNANCY TEST.
naturally i got a soda, PEOPLE magazine, and some carmex.
i suck at being nonchalant.
as i am standing in line, i go back to thinking about when i am walking to my car at drake. “it is okay if you get your achille’s tendon cut, it is okay if you get kidnapped, it is okay if you are pregnant.” wait a minute….
it is NOT okay that you are comparing being kidnapped/killed to being pregnant! sweet jesus, you are not ready for motherhood!
why does anyone put themselves through this agony on purpose?
i get home, take the test and wait the horrid three fucking minutes!!! are you kidding me? three minutes? for 13 dollars your little paper strip mind has to work faster than that. come on now!
no whammies, no whammies.
and then there was relief…. negative.
i promptly poured myself a glass of wine and began with the reassurance mode… “it’s okay that mother computer and her little sidekick, the google played this terrible trick on you. it’s okay…”