I can’t talk right now, and that sorta sucks.
Hrm. so. yeah.
what to talk about.
I thought I had something to say. and I sorta did do, but i don’t not.
it’s just the same ole same ole “my husband makes me cry” shit.
I don’t really have a husband.
and it’s sad cuz it’s more like I”m imprisoned. I have all these stupid dreams. How I want to have another baby in a more… ummmm “normal” way, with the joy and the wantedness and all that. I won’t get to have that. cuz my “husband” won’t come near me and probably won’t want to have any more kids with me anyway.
and instead of having the hope of somoene else i’m just stuck in a pit.
now i don’t think that all of this is happening out of the blue. my choices, my life. all that jazz.
but i’m still sad.
so stuff that in a pipe and smoke it long and hard.
jacob’s new word is waffle and bubble.
i guess i should go change his diary.
you can thank this “non entry” to being sick and having diaper children.
bru ha ha.
snoo haa haa.
nibble bibble wee bop.