knee-jerk

Back in the dim and distant past, before miscarriage and loss overwhelmed me, I was considered by all who knew me to be a "tree-hugging leftie".  By that they meant that even my worst enemy could not call me judgemental.

Not so much now, although thankfully still only to myself.  And you, dear interwebs.

Yesterday, on my journey to the dentist, I saw this young girl, couldn't have been more than twenty years old, pushing a pram with a maybe 2-year-old in it.  The young girl was also visibly pregnant, and smoking a cigarette.  Walking with his arm around her was her, I presume, partner who was smoking what I know was NOT a cigarette.  I swear my anger and hatred and judgementalness (what? It's a word) was coming off me in toxic waves.

Eighteen hours later I think that it still is.

Q&A

Over the past few weeks, I have been asked a couple of questions in comments, to which I haven't replied.  So:

Mummy in Waiting, Tireegal and Noelle asked about my job.  I am a research assist@nt at a large London teaching hospital.  We research all manner of stuff but my area is communicable disease.  I'm not a boffin, though, the science bit - the hows and whys - is done by the medical and lab staff.  I contribute the "who" by getting patient consent, looking at notes and lab results, talking to patients (my favourite bit) and then entering all the data onto a database for the boffins to analyse.

Tireegal also asked if Illanare is my real name.  Oh I wish that is were, I think it is so pretty!  But no, it is said by some to be a very ancient name for Sri L@nka (from whence I came).

And Circus Princess, in response to this post, asked if A wasn't making a lot of the decisions for our lives.  And she is right, he is.  Well, it seems to me that he makes the major ones like stopping TTC, no chance of looking in to adoption, living together but never getting married, moving to NZ in a few years time.  And I have let him.  Because I can't get knocked up without him (and a cast of hundreds, of course).  And I can't frog-march him down the aisle, nor can I adopt a child without at least his knowledge.  But what I can do is regain control of my own life.  I just need to marshall up what forces I have left after the battles of the last few years and march onwards.

day 30: a dream for the future

Regular readers will know that my hopes for the future have undergone a major (and traumatic) overhaul in the past year.  I have had to let go of my dreams of motherhood and as yet I have not been able to replace them.
So for now, my dream for the immediate future is to find a new dream.

day 29: hopes, dreams and plans for the next 365 days

I hope:
that my father's eyesight doesn't deteriorate and if he does have to have surgery on his retina, it all goes well
that A can come off the anti-depressants and not plunge back into the pit of despair he was in before
that my darling cousin Billie's broken heart heals
that I can start to look more than a few days ahead in my own life and not start to panic and feel like I am drowning

I dream:
that I can find a more local job

I plan:
to start my (part-time) Masters' degree next September

the M@ry P0ppins handbag

Some of you asked to see a photo...:

And yes, my darling little cat does fit in it, as she very cutely proved on the day I bought it.

day 28: what is in my handbag

This will take some time, I like to be prepared for all eventualities.
1 NHS lanyard to which is attached my photo ID, swipe card and 2GB memory stick
1 set of office keys
1 set of house keys
1 diary
1 notebook
2 hankies
1 mobile phone
1 0yster card
1 tube of tiger b@lm
1 mini torch
1 fold away to nothing nylon shopping bag
1 roll-on bags-under-eyes reducer
3 pens
1 pencil
1 book
1 umbrella
1 digital camera
1 MP3 player and ear-buds
1 purse
1 little green make-up bag containing spare contact lenses, 4 hair grips, a tube of lip balm, my brand new, super-dooper migraine meds
1 plastic bag containing a spare pair of clean knickers, 1 tampon and 1 sanitary towel (today is CD204 - any day now, right...?)
1 box of spearmint Tic T@cs
1 hair band
1 inexplicable pen lid
1 kitchen sink and a lost tribe of Inca...

day 27: my worst habit

I think that this would depend upon who you ask. 
A would say it is twirling my hair; I do it all the time (especially when I am stressed) and it seriously irritates him.
My mother would say it's procrastination, although to be fair I have now elevated that more to an art form than a habit.  Especially when it comes to the ironing.  Or cleaning the oven.
Me, I think my worst habit is moping.  Of late I have become a champion moper.  I feel I should be heading out to Delhi right now to mope for England in the C0mmonwealth Games.