anchor watch

After you have a baby, people will inevitably ask you if you are sleeping at night, because the one thing people know about babies is that babies = no more sleep. Sometimes it is even the very first question. When I say he usually "only" wakes up twice now, they will always exclaim, Oh, that's great, that's not bad at all! To which I very much want to reply, Fuck you, why don't you try it for a year and then tell me how great it is. But instead I just smile wanly and look away because people, you know? People.

a hot mess

It's not even lunchtime and I've already cried three times today, twice because I feel like I'm failing at work and I have no idea how or why I'm still trying to do my job at this point, and again because I knocked a glass off my counter this morning and it shattered into a million billion tiny shards across every inch of my kitchen floor and it is still there because Swiffers don't work on glass and all I have to use is a hand broom but I can't even reach the floor to clean it up properly so it is still a war zone in there. I want to go back to bed forever. I feel like an idiot for saying I could work this long, I don't know what I'm doing. I thought I was pretty well over my hyperdeveloped need to please authority but apparently not far enough because here I am and I can't think of literally any other reason for it. I should have quit last week while I was still mostly human. Annnd I'm on the verge of crying again. Ok, rant over./

Carry on.

*grumble*sniffle*mumble*whimper*cough*

Feeling kinda pitiful over here with the cold. that. will. not. die.
Can I go home now? Like, forever?

counting down

Two months sounds like way too long to still be pregnant and also not nearly long enough to have everything ready for this baby. But I want him out. I am so miserable. (Please for the love of all that is good do not remind me that first babies almost never come early and more often come late. I might not speak to you ever again.) We are hoping for anytime between Feb 1-14. He will be full term and good to go. I am counting down, trying to focus on things I have to look forward to in the meantime.

First up: the party this Saturday. They had to call it a "Welcoming Baby Party" instead of a baby shower, so that I would show up, because I have always hated baby showers so much! I am looking forward to this party though. They promised me co-ed attendees, no silly games, and lots of good food with sparkling cider for me and nice wine for everyone else. We are also letting people vote on the baby's name, out of our top five choices. Should be interesting. And if we can arrange it we might also set up a video camera for people to record messages to the baby. Yay!

After that comes Christmas, then New Year's. Then just a few more weeks of work and deciding when to begin my maternity leave. Time should fly. I hope so.

Everybody else is pregnant. Again.

Fuck.

exacerbated

Time for some whinging. Feel free to tune out.


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I hate my job.

Hate.

Hate, hate, hatehatehate!

Normally, I would quickly add: "But I am thankful that I at least have a job.
I know I'm really lucky."

But do you want to know a secret?

I'm not thankful. I'm not thankful at all.

And I don't really think I'm lucky. (By what stretch of the imagination am I lucky?) I think my life sucks and it's never going to get any easier and why can't someone just take care of this shit for me? That's what I really think. I think I am always going to be poor and I'm never going to be able to pay back my loans or get my own apartment or travel or do anything fun, ever.

I am so tired of working in stupid stores selling stupid shit to stupid people who don't actually need any of it. I am tired of mean bitches talking to me like I'm an idiot, or some kind of lowly servant girl, or a subclass of human. I am tired of busting my ass for a measly $8-minus-taxes an hour, while my lazy coworkers hide in the breakroom or go outside to smoke or leave early without telling anyone. (M says I think I'm better than them -- but I don't think that. I know it.)

I am tired of being so goddam agreeable all the time.

I am tired all. the. time.

They keep telling me I need to smile more.
My first thought is always, unexpectedly, "Fuck you."


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I fear that there is no justice in the world.