I have been thinking about the guy that I saw the other day. His comments don't add up, like from when I met him and he said that he was gay eight years ago (with a husband who died of AIDS) to saying that he was in a relationship for ten years with a late wife who died three months after he married her. His sons who are in private boarding school in England with $36mil trust funds-- too weird. He said he'd call to meet me this weekend as he was out buying a house for his dad with money in amounts that boggled my mind, but he didn't come out. It's just as well.
TeaCup will be two in the morning. Oh this is heart breaking! She is getting old and I so badly want to have another baby. That would be insane of me at this point. I want to be done raising them with time for dh and I. Of what do I speak? Pregnancy is what I know.
I feel over my head with my classes. Linguistics (as much as I love it) is hard. This is harder than social work. Anything worth doing is difficult. Once I break it down, I have it. Before I break it down, I do not. Magazine article writing isn't easy. All this is difficult. I have Russian on days that I do nothing but drive and I am worn out in class.