Sick, and tired

I'm on MC for two days - bad flu.

Despite feeling as if I was about to die, I went out to buy picnic food for Coco after my visit to the doc last night.

I think I over-packed her bag with food: four sets of triangles of bread with ham, a sultana croissant, two pandan chiffon, two chocolate cakes with mashmallow cream, a packet of poki, a box of collon (or is it 'colon'?), and two packets of little bread cakes. The tit-bits are for her to share with her friends, since she's so avid about it.

This is barely the third week that we discovered my pregnancy, but already, William is starting to lose his stamina. He actually said 'NO!' when I requested for him to move away from the coffee table during his dinner time because the strong smells of his food were too much for me. This morning, he said 'NO!' when I asked if he could make the ham sandwiches for Coco. So in the end, I had to do it myself.

Actually, I, and the rest of the world, can foresee that he'll continue to be the irresponsible father and husband that he already is, eight months down the road. What's the chance of him changing for the better if he's still like this more than 2 years after we're married?

It's so true that the most important matter for a woman is whether she marries well.

If he'd been a responsible husband, I don't have to shed tears over my pregnancy. I don't have to think so hard, and go through all the emotional and mental turmoil over the baby and my future, as well as Coco's.

The foetus' turning 9 weeks.

I need my job. I can't afford to lose it. But the pregnancy's been making me weak and tired and sickly. I'm worried that I would get a D grade this September.

I think about when I can get divorced from him.

There's no way I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him. At some point, I'm sure I'll become vulnerable to another person given the way this marriage goes. It's a hard life. Miserable. Tiring. Stressful. Uncertain. Insecure.

I was telling a friend how I'm starting to hate being a Christian.

It was because I see myself as a Christian that I hold on to this marriage so dearly, despite him treating me so shabbily after promising great things, because divorce is wrong according to the Bible. In the end, I get myself into trouble because I stay on in this marriage - I get pregnant. And because I'm a Christian, I'm not supposed to take a life. And my misery will continue for the rest of my life because I'm married to this jerk. And I'm not supposed to go for another relationship because that would be akin to committing adultery. So I'm supposed to call 'misery' my life?

I think I've done my best to abide by all these fucked up values. I'm sick of these values that make my life a mess.

You may say that my life is a mess because I married the wrong man, which is absolutely true.

Or maybe the people who had condemned me for remarrying are just damn right: divorcees ought to be obedient and stay unmarried for the rest of their lives. Probably the Bible had foreseen that life for women who remarry would be just as hard, if not harder, and that's why the advice. Just that it wasn't put across in exactly a nice way.