Thursday, January 21, 2010

Gas Me, Please

I have about 17 minutes left before I have to leave for my dental surgery, and since I am getting knocked the fuck out for it, I don't know how long it will be before I feel like writing again.

Actually, fuck it. I will write when I get home, and it will be all the more interesting because I will just have been under sedation!

In all honesty, I've actually just run out of time and I have to go now. But it could be interesting. We'll see if it is at all evident in my writing that I have just been gassed and sedated for three hours.

Or more likely, I'll just fall asleep when I get home, and you won't hear from until I wake up in two days.
We'll see...


And I'm back. It is now 7:15 in the evening, and Girl Agent dropped me back off about three hours ago. So far I have fought the urge to sleep, as I would like to get a few things done this evening, though it has not been an easy task. I fell asleep twice while eating cereal on the couch, and only woke up both times when I tipped the bowl of milk into my lap. Since then, I have just been lying on the couch, trying to stay awake to do some chores, but I have yet to actually get up and accomplish anything. I haven't even taken my night time meds yet - I know that when I do, I will not be moving for at least 12 hours.

Though I am absolutely exhausted, I am still glad that I followed through with my Night Before Surgery plan, and stayed up all last night and this morning. This is how I always prepare for something like surgery or piercing or tattooing or laser hair removal. By not sleeping for two days, I am able to fall asleep very easily during and following my procedure, even when the pain is at it's worst, and -
Oh, God. Oh God oh God oh God. Bf just called. Oh, GOD. The shit has hit the fucking fan.

Baby Momma called Bf a little while ago, and tore a big long strip off his ass. Everything that I worried about in yesterday's blog post came to a head tonight. Baby didn't mention her new name for me (Momma Kg) in front of her mum, as far as I know, but what happened today was along the exact same lines.

Apparently while they were playing this afternoon, Baby Momma said to her daughter, "Are you my baby?"

"No," Baby replied matter-of-factly. "I Kg baby."


I know that in yesterday's post, I was waxing lyrical about how much I would enjoy it if Baby said something like this in front of Baby Momma. I even considered encouraging her when she would call me Momma Kg, so that the name would stick and would eventually get repeated in front of Baby Momma. I rejoiced in the opportunity to avenge myself without actually taking any action or doing anything wrong. But I also came to the conclusion last night that I just couldn't do it. I could not set out to deliberately use my sweet step-baby to hurt Baby Momma's feelings.

When it happened on it's own, without any intervention from me, I still expected a feeling of immense satisfaction - karma had come round full circle on Baby Momma, but I had done nothing to instigate it, so my conscience was free and clear. But I really did think that I would relish the time when she was finally the one getting hurt, instead of always doing the hurting to everyone else.

It never happened, though. I never got my feeling of satisfaction. When Bf told me what had happened, instead of gloating shamelessly I immediately thought of how Baby Momma must have felt when her own daughter told her that she was Kg's Baby, not hers. All I felt was my own heart lurching in agony. I felt horribly sorry for her - I couldn't even imagine how badly that must have hurt. How could I ever have thought that I would enjoy this? I wondered.

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