Don't Make Me Touch the Rag

There are certain (many) things that make my life depressing and horrible these days:

• the kitchen rag
  
• coffee grounds
  
• dirty towels
  
• wet towels
  
• clean towels (too much fabric softener)
  
• the smell of my house
  
• damp smells
  
• dry smells
  
• nice smells (perfume and such)
  
• cooking smells
  
• dirty diapers
  
• clean diapers (they have a very chemical-ly smell)
  
• direct sunlight
  
• coldness
  
• dirty sink
  
• talk of food
  
• warm wetness (if that makes sense)
  
• front yard
  
• back yard
  

You can imagine what this makes life like for those who share my space. I'm irratable and unpredictable and annoyed at myself. The hardest part is my physical inability to overcome this onset of depression. And when I use that word I mean it to describe a slowness that has overtaken my life and a lack of structure. I cannot grocery shop and mean it. I mean, I can for others, but I cannot presume to know on Sunday at 10:30 am what I will want to eat on Sunday at 10:45 am. This makes for a most difficult preservation of life.

Things I have eaten lately because it was what sounded good at the time:

• Arby's Beef and Cheddar (try twice in one day!)
  
• Subway ham and cheese with white bread (white! I never order white!)
  
• Cheese crisp
  
• Chorizo burrito
  
• (Mind you this is all in the last thirty-six hours!)
  
• bacon
  
• blueberry pancakes (in fact that sounds good. like RIGHT NOW!)
  

I told a friend recently that I would be willing to trade the first trimester for seventy-two hours of labor. That sounds extreme right? Well, imagine spending eight to twelve weeks disgusted in your skin. Imagine being disgusted by the smell of your fingertips. Imagine yourself living in the sixth circle of digestive and olfactory hell. This sucks so bad I want to numb myself with cocktails every night until February when, magically, this will all most likely be over (please, God?) because I will have transitioned out of the first trimester.