Last weekend, I was working at an event. I thought I would have time to write, but before I knew it, Monday morning came around. By Wednesday, I got a head cold. I feel like shit.
I ideally wanted to dedicate a post to my grandma. May 2nd would have been her 72nd birthday but instead. I really don’t want to live through that trauma. (Her preventable death, her slight disdain for my little brother and I, and me going to therapy for my depression post-death.) But I digress, Happy Birthday Jeanette!
I naturally had a whole list meticulously planned. I wanted to purge my debt details and get to the nitty-gritty of what I spend money on in the past. Why did I buy an ice cream machine? Why did I buy my favorite cousin an Amazon Tablet? Why am I such an optimistic bitch?
I wanted to do deep dive on one thing called BABYBEY2022. My ultra-single-fuck-niggas plan to have a baby by lonesome. Is coinciding with my Debt Free Plan of paying off at least 45% of my crushing debt. Next, I will proceed to find a sperm donor and try to get pregnant in October. I would prefer having a June baby.
I am maintaining a list of things to write. These promises of writing are mostly for me. I desperately need to get my shit together on all fronts. Nervously adjusting to a new job, going away for days at a time, and making time for my lovely friends is time-consuming but nonetheless rewarding.
I haven’t played The Sims in a few weeks either, and that bums me out. I will write this weekend and have something to post on Monday Morning. I don’t have an idea on a topic, but I will encounter something that will allegedly inspire me. Meantime, read my old shit. Embrace the weekend!