Sunday Evening

We're watching the US Open tennis final. Roger Federer against Andy Roddick. Andy is the American and so the crowd is with him, but I'm for the Swede.

We're also drinking. Big shock, I know. I went out to buy some wine and had to go to this shop where the owner is TOO helpful. I bought the first swill I came upon because he never takes, no I'm just looking, for an answer. He always wants to HELP. And when I'm listening to my iPod, I don't want help...I know damn well which wine I want in order to get DRUNK.

Wow that sounds angry. I am angry. All this 9-11 shit is making me angry. You can't turn on any other channel and not see some "five years later" bullshit.

I wrote on the other blog that at least, working with Tom, I won't have to produce a whole show about it. I don't want to think about it. I am having constant nightmares. I don't need help.

I want to have sex tonight in order to begin the pregnancy process. This is prime time, according to my doctor, and if I have to stay in this job for awhile at least I can enjoy the healthcare benefits.

Jazmine gave me a hard time this weekend about smoking. Paul's niece and her friend were visiting, they are both smokers, and they asked me if I had any cigarettes.

I didn't know what to say and when I hesitated, Jazmine wagged her finger at me and said, "I know what your deal is."

I KNOW that I am a 40 year old woman but there is no worse criticism. It gave me pause.

Man. I was so tempted to say well hey, your dad is a big smoker too! But of course that's a different issue.

Damn it.