Donald Trump Makes Me Not Want To Get Pregnant

My internal clock is all kinds of screwed up. Normally I would be in bed right now, reading a few pages before turning out the lights. Ever since I became unemployed, time has basically no meaning. I go to bed late and get up…sometimes when Shak leaves, sometimes later, sometimes earlier. The days have little to no structure. I try to go for walks and write when the muse strikes (not often enough). I work on keeping the house presentable and cuddle with Isis and read – although we’re eleven days into 2018 and I’ve only finished one book.

Unemployed, yes. For the first time since college and it’s weird as hell. The circumstances, to put it mildly, are not ideal. My highly supportive loved ones have rallied around me and encouraged me to think of this unexpected work hiatus as a chance to get my writing career off the ground. So I’m working on that, in fits and starts.

And today the president called the countries of origin of some (brown) immigrants “shitholes” and apparently somehow people are surprised…? He noted that he would prefer more (white) immigrants from, say, Norway. Today and tonight in particular he seems exceptionally unhinged, but I know I’ll be saying the same thing a week or two weeks from now when the next previously unfathomable thing happens. If there’s anyone on Earth whose stream of consciousness should not be broadcast to the billions, it’s the one who has both the nuclear launch codes and the mental health of a drunken racist dotard. I don’t like blaming his all-around abject terribleness on senility – he doesn’t deserve that kind of a pass – but I think there is a strong case to be made that he is not a well man.

I don’t know if this is normal to do or not – and I’d love to hear from anyone else who has had similar thoughts – but honest to God, the current occupant of the White House is affecting the feelings I have about getting pregnant. I’ve been open about that not being an easy road for us, and it’s kind of a mind fuck to be taking all these extra (expensive) steps to try to get pregnant when I’m simultaneously really freaked out about the world into which I’d be bringing a kid. You’d think that a couple who undergoes fertility treatments would be like, really 1000% sure about the desired outcome. Unvarnished truth be told, it’s a little murky sometimes. Because I don’t know how I feel about ultra-deliberately bringing a child into a world where nuclear war is a more realistic fear than ever and climate change is severely fucking up our environment in ways that are increasingly difficult to work around and oh yeah, brown kids in the US aren’t super safe.

When I get really stressed out about the current state of things, I try to remember some Bible verse (for real) about there being nothing new under the sun. I’ve always found that idea comforting. The world’s been a hot mess forever, but it’s all cyclical, it will not be like this forever, etc.

I swear to God if anyone comments on this blog saying anything to the effect of “just adopt!!” they will be dead to me. I mean maybe we will, I don’t know, but don’t act like it’s just that simple.

I got myself a pint of Halo Top chocolate chip cookie dough and while it’s not unenjoyable, the cookie dough pieces are about the size of a baby ant and that’s a real downer. People hate on Halo Top but I think it’s decent.

That’s my stream of consciousness for tonight. I did spare you my thoughts on the season 5 episode of 90210 I had on while writing this. So you’re welcome for that, and also for this.