Weekend, and baby lust

Friday, I:

• had a sprouted bagel with cream cheese for lunch, along with the emergency food (have I already mentioned this?);


• went home and... (hmm. What did I eat? I know it wasn't fast food...)


• Oh! Had a Rainbow Dragon sushi roll from the Berkeley Bowl, and a small can of anchovies on whole wheat crackers with sharp cheddar cheese;
  
• drank much foggy sake, to little effect;
  
• watched Only You, which I seem to recall watching in the theater when it came out, alone, because my partner-boyfriend-whatnot did not do romantic comedies (or Harry Potter);


• fell asleep with the phone on. (But it's okay - it didn't count towards our minutes!)

Saturday, I:

• woke at 8:30 am, thinking it was at least noon;


• had a whole wheat English muffin with sweet organic butter;


• wondered why my butter had no flavor;
  
• drank instant coffee with some Mexican hot chocolate;


• reminded myself to someday get a coffee press again;


• went to the city (in this case, SF), and walked forever along the Presidio while drinking hot cocoa;
  

• ate a banana;
• had half a veggie burger with guacamole, lettuce, ketchup, and bacon (I know, contradictory) and some mac and cheese and a hot chai in the Castro;
• bought way too much yarn;
• had cheese raviolis for dinner, with marinara sauce, as well as more sake;
• ate the rest of that burger;
• fell asleep with the phone on, but he noticed and hung up.

Sunday, I:

• had a whole wheat English muffin toasted with butter and cheese;
• drank coffee?
• polished off the raviolis;
• polished off all my potatoes, too;
• had an English muffin with tofu dogs glued to them with cheese;
• dug some pecans out the back of the cabinet to eat;
• ate them;
• wondered where all the food went;
• knit booties for a co-worker;
• thought about babies to the extent that I dreamt about them last night.

I heard somewhere that dreaming of babies was a sign of impending doom. (That interpretation could be interpreted many ways in itself.) In my dream, I had a baby, but my family was so proprietorial about my baby that they had it for a couple days, and then the hospital had it for a couple days, and when I finally got to fetch it, I was supremely pissed. Everybody else had been so involved I hadn't even had a chance to see what my baby looked like. I started yelling at the hospital staff about it, how my breastfeeding plan was all f*ck*d up and I was without milk because something like four days had passed sans baby, etc., and I wouldn't be able to nurse now. (And when I say I was pissed, I mean pissed. I even woke up affronted and angry.) On top of it all, the baby was ugly.

I don't think this is a sign of impending doom. I think this is just my subconscious mulling over what I've been thinking about lately. You may notice that my mention of my partner-boyfriend-whatnot is now in the past tense; he did not die or anything, rest assured, nor did some thing similarly disastrous happen. It's just that after seven years together he finally realized he really won't ever be ready to have kids and I basically had to choose.

I am 34.

Baby won.

So, baby on the brains. I even have a victim - I mean, volunteer for this business. But in a romantic way. Notice all that falling asleep on the phone in the text above? That kind of behavior has been going on for some time now. About seven months. It's someone I used to know from my home town who is now a trucker and always... elsewhere. Ohio. Wyoming. Or, like at present, New Mexico, soon to be Arizona. Through happy coincidence, we both remembered each other very, very well, and through another happy coincidence, he practically had an apoplectic fit of joy when I mentioned why my former partner-boyfriend-whatnot got left behind in the foul East Coast weather. So, no baby right now, but maybe in a year or two, eh? It looks like it's going that way.