This is all Bullshit, isn't it?

I had my first "I'm going to be a daddy" freakout. Big time. I had a friend in from out of state for the weekend, and we went out Friday night. Being 30, being as how I have a kid on the way, well we went out to party. One's mental state best functions when one doesn't think about the infinite possibilties. For instance, I could die at any minute. Earthquake, heart attack, going like my dad, car accident, carjacking and/or theft gone wrong, etc. etc. Though I knew my wife was pregnant, the thought of how that would affect us/me hasn't been much of a priority, I accepted fatherhood like I accepted my cat, as if it was the most natural thing in the world with no thought of how it would change my day to day. But before I went out, Aili and had a brief back and forth over some chicken pesto tortellini. And she implied, though not with all seriousness, that she makes more than me, and if I wanted to I could be the stay at home dad. And I took it as what it was and I have entertained the notion. Seriously, I could do more writing, maybe.

But then I went out. And got drunk. And went to Cheetah's. And got a lap dance(not my thing, but when the friend paid, I couldn't say no). And then a second. And then we went out to the car and did some drugs. Expensive drugs. And the we went back inside. I felt like I was in college again, but I was also too drunk to care, and wasn't driving. And I think I got a little out of control because I knew there was a finite timeline to this sort of activity, even though I don't really like it. And then I got home. At three. And Aili was cool with it. But I was still fucked up. I slept on the couch. By my choice, because it took me so long to calm down.

And then Aili woke me up. By fellating me. And then we had sex, and it was okay, though I was hurting by the time I hit the shower. Yesterday I was totally useless, and miserable physically and spirtually. And it's at these times I think about all the things that could happen and lose my normal peace of mind. Because I realized I am like to have a little less than eight months to do stuff like that before I'm somebody's father. Hell, in five or six years our kid(s) may want to sleep with us at night, how doesn't that change everything? How do I feel about pounding a six pack on Fridays when I know my kid's next to me. Sometimes Aili likes to throw on a porno (I have a "don't ask don't tell" policy about this, I don't mind watching porn, but she has a thing for Jenna Jameson films, and when she's feeling dirty we'll throw one on and we'll see what happens [usually, fucking]) . Do I want pron around my house (New Pron - fine, though)? Do I want my kids to discover fucking the way I did, through my father's Playboys and video tapes?

This is all bullshit, isn't it? I remember having a fight with an ex, where I described a woman on a plane who was freaking out and every little thing. And I felt bad for her, but I thought she was being absolutely ridiculous, and used this as a tool to calm my ex down. There's some shit you have no control over, so you have to let it go. Were I to toot my own horn, I would say that one of the better things about me is my ability to accept that. You have no control over the flight. I have no idea if it'll be a boy or a girl. And I understand some things will need to be planned out, but planning for ten years in the future right now is retarded in that way (not in a 401K way, mind you). So this is all bullshit. But that's where my mind's been.