Man, I feel like a woman.
Hal had his procedure last Monday. He spent most of the next week hobbling around with an icepack on his groin, and then things got busy, so we haven't, erm... gone ahead with the, uh, project. So basically, I spent all week living in prolonged anxiety, and being worked like a slave girl. I'd grown really accustomed to having my space during the day that it became kind of a neat situation where I could just wander around and forget what I look like, even when I can't forget what I look like. But with Hal calling for Anne-Marie to get lunch and run errands, I feel more like a wife than I have since I first came to this place. And just think... this dude expects me to do stuff with him.
It was kinda pathetic, and personally, I think he's milking it. I mean, yeah, I remember what it was like to have balls, and if some dude had been up in there with a scalpel, then maybe it would lay you up for a little while, but... well, the distance he took it was a bit much, is all. I sympathize and all, but no need to overdo it.
So this week, he's back at work, and he's gonna do a second test to determine the absence of sperm, and then, if all goes as "planned" (note sarcastic finger-quotes) Saturday night is the night. The kids will be at Aunt Trudy's place, and we'll have a... nice evening.... together.
I can't turn off the part of me that thinks this is wrong. That if I don't want to do this, I shouldn't feel obligated to. It's Anne-Marie he loves, he wants, and I'm not her. But am I gonna look him in the eye and say "Go mess around with your secretary, she wants it more"? This is the most altruistic thing I've ever done. What's worse is... I can't turn off the part of me that does want it, either.
I know, I know, it's not that I'm interested in getting it on with Hal, or any guy, but... has anyone ever read Greek mythology? Or T.S. Eliot's the Wasteland? (I'm a dropout but a well-read one.) I feel like Tiresias, and if what he had to say has any bearing, well... I've gotta know.
I'm just terrified of how good it might actually be. (This blog itself is loaded with mixed reviews.) Bry's no help either. I was having lunch with her on one of our "girls' days out" last weekend, where we get hot chocolate and pretend to shop (which I'm sorry to say actually results in a good deal of real shopping.) She kept chirping me about it. "Dude, you've gotta try it!" she said with this little-girl verve she's inherited from Ellie. I guess she realizes since she's gonna be a guy again soon (fingers crossed!) and she's so young she's not going to be the one to experience this for herself, so why not me? Yeah, easy for her to say.
I have to admit, I could do worse. He's got kind of a chubby George Clooney thing going on, if you squint. And he's kinda funny? Man, I am really stretching to justify this to myself.
I mentioned the trip. Yes, it's all booked, at least for four of the six of us. Amanda and Deb got their slot in late Early June, which hopefully puts me and Bry there after he gets done school. "Julia" and "Kalli" have yet to confirm. I'm worried that it's about money for them... I wish I could just dig into Anne's purse and give it to them, but Hal was already reluctant to let me go for what promised to be yet another month-long sojourn in Maine, part of which would be incommunicado. Erm... yeah.
Look, I just want to get out of this skin. I want to go home and I don't want to look at much less feel another man's junk any more than I had to.
Tired of playing housewife, and six months to go.