Dena asked how the babymaking is going. Well it has been lots and lots of fun. Especially since we went on vacation for a week and had lots of beautiful free time. But it is also such a fruserating process, because I HATE waiting. And it sucks that you have to wait over 14 days to figure out if your "attempts" were effective and then if they weren't, you have to wait two weeks to try again and a whole month to find out if your next attempts will be effective. And I feel like if this process goes on too long, the attempts just won't be as fun. So if this month doesn't turn out with a positive test, I'm going to have to rework my overly obsessive mind and just chill out and let the babymaking happen when it happens. Because I can't handle my crazy mind counting down the days until I can finally take a test. It is making me insane.

In all seriousness, my heart breaks for women who spend years trying to get pregnant, and I feel like the possibility of that in my mind is similar to the thoughts during my single days of marrying late or not marrying at all. It was a fear that haunted me during those years, and now this threatens to be the new fear to haunt me. Whenever one hurdle is taken away, another soon presents itself.

In other news, I am handing over my precious budget to Tom next month and allowing him to control our finances. This also means doing away with my beloved spreadsheet and upgrading to Microsoft Money. I sat next to him last night and gave him all the information to get things set up, and I had several anxiety attacks during the process. It's not that I don't want him to take control of the finances; I think it is going to be great for him and for our marriage. But the process of giving it up and losing my nicely controlled spreadsheet sent my head spinning.

I'm also trying to get things in order for school and teaching and graduating, and nothing is going the way it should.

I don't usually think of myself as a control freak, until weeks like this remind me of my ugly messy faults in this area. This week, I have walked around with tight fists, and I am realizing more than ever the need to pry them open and surrender my control. Dying daily is a necessity for my sanity. Just like Effexor. But though I don't often forget the pills, it is so easy to forget to lay down my life each morning. And so difficult to kill this wretch of obsessive control built inside of me.