Tomorrow is the last day of the second last month of the shittiest year of my entire life. Tomorrow I have a medium/ clairvoyant/psychic coming to give me a reading. Tomorrow I hope she comes through somehow, though I am not banking on it. I took off tomorrow because sky doesn't have school, so instead of crying in the car by myself like I've done every day for months now I will have to find a way to hide It. Tomorrow I will miss her no less than I do today or than I did 6 months ago. Some days I still wish I never had to leave my bed. Some days I wish I could go back and start the year over again. I'd be so much more careful. I read some posts today about women running marathons and doing p90x while very pregnant (and I'd apologize in advance if the comments were yours but, well, I'm just not sorry for referencing you total naïvety) and the only thing I can think is, "seriously? You run a marathon at 9 months pregnant and come home with a beautiful baby and I can't even do normal stuff like wake up in the morning with mine." The total ridiculous unfairness of it is mind numbing.
So I bid the month of November farewell. The only reason I will be sad to see you go is because I am then another month from holding my Gabbie.
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