stacy was here (and probably spinning....)















Stacy Was Here :
Back at the Beginning

Wednesday, November 06, 2002

Today has been long, and trying...

Talked to my advisor today and got my registration ticket so I can get my classes and stuff. Unless the insanity wears off, I'll be taking 19 units this next semester, because I want so bad to graduate on time. The classes would be General Biology (with a lab... see me overjoyed), American History, World Lit (the focus next semester is Dostoevsky... anyone have any thoughts on him?), HIstory of English Language, Living Myth, Archery, and English Colloquium (which will look at the short stories and poetry of Raymond Carver, who seems to be Humboldts version of Rachel Carson, but it's one night a week, for half the semester, and I have to take 2 sections of it before I can graduate, so what the hell.) It's going to be hell. On Mondays I'll have class from 10am-5pm, break for dinner, and then have class again from 7-9pm... that's 11 hours between when I leave for class and when I return. It would be the worst day though, so hopefully I can handle it. Now, mind you, I don't register until December third, so I have ample time to come to my senses. We'll see what happens.

Walked into town and paid $38 fucking dollars to not bleed to death for another month. If my school carried the specific type of birth control I need, it would cost between $3 and $6, but no, because I have fucked up ovaries and this birth control is relatively new, I'm SOL. And I can't even get it through Planned Parenthood, so I get to pay $38 fucking dollars a month, just for the fucking priveledge of not bleeding to death. Happy Birthday to me. Sometimes I just want to walk into a hospital and demand that they remove my reproductive organs. Why the hell do I need them when I probably can't even have children like a normal woman? What's the point? So I can spend every fourth weekend curled up in the fetal position because it feels like something is gnawing away at my insides? So that I can bleed so heavily I risk becoming anemic every fucking month? I'm all for modern medicine and all that, but at least in the middle ages it would have been simple.

Got some difficult news on the phone today that I don't know what to do with. I feel like I can't do anything to make the situation better or easier, that it's so complex and hard to think through that I don't know where to begin. My mom will know better.

And now I'm just tired. Really stinking tired. Bitching takes a lot out of you, you know... and here I thought it was just fatigue.

posted by Cat Named Eggroll @ 12:24 AM   0 comments


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