all I wish

still having a hard time getting a camera.

my morning sickness makes me forego perfume. I've been drinking a lot of milk. I have a penchant for sleeping well past morning, to my embarrassment.

I wish I wouldn't beat myself up so badly for being pregnant. it's not a bad thing. in spite of all the negativity at work ('they're being catty', my father told me over the phone the night I was almost attacked by a dog and Travis yelled at me for being ready to kill it, in spite of being female and/or pregnant). in spite of how bad I feel. in spite of the fact that I haven't really talked to anybody lately. 

I think what bothers me so badly is that I don't have anyone I'm close to to share in this pregnancy. Travis's family is... his. my family isn't being forthright in enlightening information; my mother still isn't picking up the phone. I'll go see my sister tomorrow to help her with the shop/watching my niece while her husband goes to Wisconsin on a business meeting. 

Travis has been good to me. we walk a lot and he deals with the fact that I'm angry, I'm scared, and I'm easily provoked. I can't wait until we're comfortable, when finances aren't as scary and I can give up this shitty job to stay at home while working at Starbucks (better money through tips) and doing the college thing. because lately that's been on my mind. because I will be a failure in my mind if I do not get an education. if I do not push myself to the limit. if I am not the best at something. 

at just what, however? fuck, I don't know. you tell me.

I haven't spoken to my favorite mathematics teacher since I saw him with Chuck. I miss him. I hope he hasn't forgotten me, I just can't get the guts or the printer paper to tell him that I'm knocked up and married and living precariously in spite of this being such a good situation. 

having problems with photoshop (recently reformatted this hard drive) working properly; not that it matters because I don't have a (working) camera. guilt tripping my sister into buying me one won't work, either. I can't show off my hardened belly. I can't display my .22 gun show (will somebody call a vet? because these pythons are sick). I can't show you my tattoo. I can't show you that I'm okay, in skin and hair that is suddenly getting me compliments. I can't show you the man I enjoy spending time with, the kittens who curl up with me, the sky I look at with such hope and wonder and god I hope this gets better, because I feel so lost.