Verbal Vomit (Ewwwww)

Oh, the life, she is crazy.
Another delightful trip to Chico this weekend that I really couldn’t afford. But, my dad was kind enough to figure out what was wrong with my car (the answer: warped rotors! I know, I was excited too) so now I can brake without seeing my life flash before my eyes. And, as an added bonus, while my dad was under my car, he discovered that one of my shock absorbers was bent at a 60-degree angle. And, no, it’s NOT supposed to do that.

Project: New Roommate is going well, though poor Sarah has been in Chico so much, it’s almost like she’s just storing her stuff, and dropping in from time to time. That’s always the way it goes when you move somewhere within driving distance. Luckily, in time, I’m pretty sure her car will know the way to Chico and back without her input at all. Which is nice if you like to sleep in the car. And the good lord knows I do.

So, no one in my family knows this so clearly I should be talking about it on the internet. Smart? No. But I’m going to do it anyway.
Project: Get Knocked Up is still underway but hitting a weird snag. (NOTE: personal and vaginal information ahoy! Look away if ye be cowardly bastards)
So, the period is officially 9 days late, the piss sticks keep coming out negative. And now that I’m paying attention, EVERYTHING is direct evidence that I am or am not, depending on my mood. (“See, I’m really hungry. I totally am.” “I’m being a total bitch, it’s probably PMS, I’m so not.”) It’s fucking frustrating because if I am, I’d like a little confirmation so I can get excited. If I’m not, I’d like my period to show up again so we can get another round of trying started. Obviously, everything about my body is fucked up and stupid, so clearly this has to be the exception to everything.

I keep yelling at my uterus: “JUST MAKE UP YOUR MIND!” I’m sure that’s helping. Meanwhile, if I don’t get confirmation soon, I’m just going to start smoking and drinking heavily (not even a mom, but already gunning for Parent of the YEAR!), especially with the birthday party this weekend. Can I have a ROCKING good time, or can I only have a, meh, good time? Anyone?
*grumble*

Other notes from today:
One of my coworkers has some FOUL gas today. My note to them, “thanks for sharing.”
The entire women’s bathroom smells like Old Lady Vagina. A question, when exactly does the Old Lady smell find your vagina? Just thought I’d ask. Lots of questions today.