I know it’s been forever since I updated this place. I say this on repeat and add that I’ll take it more seriously, in part because it’s cathartic for me, but then all but fall off the face of the earth. Honestly, I have just felt so burnt out from trying to keep up with the world and being the idea of what a 20something American girl should be. This past summer, I took a break. A break from going out all the time, a break from Tinder and similar apps. I spent my weekends laying out with library books and watching DVDs with Scotti. I would choose a neighborhood and go for the day; window shopping, day dreaming about property ownership, and a solo lunch. It was awesome. Sure there were times where I felt a little lonely, but it was good.
Then August hit. And I realized that I hadn’t had a period since May. After a lot of pregnancy tests (the girl at CVS finally told me she hoped I got whatever outcome I was crying for), and a family sized bag of Sour Patch Kids, I came to terms with the fact that I was pregnant. Like, really pregnant.
This coming February, I’ll be bringing a baby boy into the world. Y’all, I never had any idea that it was possible to be 100% terrified, 100% excited an 100%overwhelmed all at once. When I was pregnant in 2010, I had decided fairly quickly that adoption was the way to go, so I avoided a lot of those feelings.
So here I am. Trying to figure out what life should be like co-parenting with a boy I met on Tinder, how to raise a boy, and spending a ton of time applying to jobs. Because PS, in August, possibly due to a influx of hormones, I decided to quit a job I was extremely unhappy at, with no plan and no savings. So feel free to Venmo (MeredithHope) or PayPal (firstname.lastname@example.org) your girl some funds, and pray she gets a job offer soon.
I pinky swear to not be a stranger any more.