Dearly Beloved

I got an invitation in the mail today to the twice-yearly memorial service the hospital holds for lost babies. Apparently we missed the last one by a day - I had the baby the day after the last service was held.

This is going to suck SO BAD.

I hate it. I hate being on the invitation list, I hate getting the quarterly bereavement newsletter, I hate that my shrink wants me to go back to a counselor (1st counselor: "I had a difficult pregnancy, and I was sure my son wouldn't make it, but he did. So I know how you feel." Cunt).

So yeah, I just got an invitation to my son's funeral. Man, we sure know how to party around here.

I took a mental health day the other day. Not because I felt extra-crazy or anything, just for kicks. It was nice to have a day to myself, I think I really needed that. I went through the box, and all the cards, and stuff. But then I put it back up and went on with my day, took a nice long nap, ran some errands. I never call in sick, and I can't make a habit of it, but that day sure was nice. It's tempting to make it a habit. And I am so bad at being bad. I cleared it with 1) the next in line to my boss, since my boss was going to be out), 2) one of the reps I support, and 3) my friend who is also HR. I TOLD THEM IN ADVANCE that I was calling in sick. I am a huge dork. So, yeah, I probably won't do that again soon.

So this meandered, but really, that's sort of where my head is right now. I came thisclose to buying a gerbil today at the pet place, when I was just in to pick up something else. I want to think about and be occupied with anything else. And at the same time, I don't want to forget, don't want to let go, because all it will do is come back and slap me in the face when I open the mailbox.

(See how I came full circle, there? I rule.)