On a rainy evening in May

I’m a 36 year old woman sitting alone at the table in our dimly lit kitchen, watching “The Bachelorette” for the first time, being bombarded with texts from my friend and roommate (who is 10 week pregnant today) about the smell of a clients shit. We are PSW’s, we take care of elderly clients who want to stay in their own homes (shit is a normal topic for us). Last year I was promoted to Team Leader, which hasn’t really changed a whole lot except that now I do assessments and office work to help out the care coordinator a couple of days a week. I’ve beenĀ ‘working from home” all day, which means I sent a few emails, made some notes and scheduled some shit- then went grocery shopping, binged some netflix, smoked some weed and made myself a killer supper while my adopted cat meowed incessantly at me (probably because she’s bored and wants rubbies) and my roommates 9 y/o Boston Terrier ignored the world and slept on her mothers basket of clean laundry. She’s currently recovering from a scrap with another dog at Easter which caused an eye injury that turned into an ulcer. Over $1000 later and some eye drops to administer every 4 hours, she’s doing great.

I’m single. I thought that was obvious when I talked about my roommate, but I thought I’d better be clear. Nope, I don’t have a husband, fiance or special friend. I’m childless, and of course at my age that pretty much means I spend a lot of time thinking about my dwindling fertility and chances to ever have a child, and spending time browsing dating websites looking for potential baby daddies.. As I mentioned, my friend/roommate is pregnant and I have to say that as happy I am for her I’m also feeling trapped in a world where I am suffocating and alone and being reminded EVERY. SINGLE. DAY of the fact that I am 36, single, and potentially barren.

Woo! Welcome to my fun life.

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May 15, 2019