It Figures

As soon as I give him brownie points, Mo returns to his usual tricks.

He slept all day yesterday.

He stayed up all night last night.

He slept again all day today.

He finally emerges from his cave, dressed and ready to go, at 6:45 this evening.

"I'll be home in an hour, hour and a half," he tells me.

Since aside from my meltdown this morning we've hardly spoken today, I'm curious. "Where are you going?"

To a friend's, he tells me. His phone has been ringing off the hook. Which is true. But I want to scream, "So freakin' what?" I've been home, basically alone, for two days. I've cleaned the house, done a million loads of laundry, played online, read two books. All while he slept. Now that he's awake, I'm not entertaining enough and he's out the door.

Tomorrow is our all-day appointment with the RE. We've got injection class, blood work, consent forms, and an embryology class planned.

Part of me wonders if I'm being unreasonable. He's got a right to have friends, I know this. But we've spent next to no time together during our mini-vacation, and I can't believe the first thing he does upon waking is head out the goddamned door. Did I mention that I was finishing dinner as he was leaving?

It won't do any good to get pissed off at him, as he's going to do whatever the hell he wants to do anyway. And so I'm bitching to you lovely ladies, who are all probably wondering why I'm even trying to have a baby with this man anyway.