Today is Wednesday. The anxiety of bringing baby into the world is dominating my existence. Not alone because I have standard "new parent" jitters. Here are three reasons why I am physically and mentally exhausted today:
1. I don't like surprises. This is nothing new. I often times read ahead in books. Sometimes I'll even read the last pages first. I prefer to settle on the finished product whilst drawing or making pots, and craft my methods in the process. Waiting for "the date" is killing me right now, because I DON'T KNOW WHEN IT WILL BE!!
2. Common stress. Referred to as "CS" in the scientific community, common stress can have physical symptoms. Currently, my skin is breaking out and I have constant stomach pain. Nothing severe, just a little nagging like I'm constipated or something. Also, I have been experiencing extreme cold sweats at night. Monday night I woke up utterly soaked. I had to scoot over to Missy's side of the bed to stay dry, and it made her mad. She went downstairs to sleep on the couch (which she does all the time because it's more comfortable for her) and I shivered the night away. Missy and I go for walks every night, which helps settle things a skotch before bed, but still ... Playing guitar or watching TV helps take my mind off things, but only temporarily. Work is slow right now because the entire unit is going away for an exercise so I'm just kind of chillin' out but it also has left me alone with my thoughts, browsing the web for new and natural ways to induce pregnancy.
3. I'm a weak little bitch. This is true. As much as I complain here about whatever, Missy is still the one with the baby growing inside her. I feel inferior becuase she is going through the ultimate physical experience: spawning life. I had a small part in the process, sure, but dammit! Other than the obvious sperm/egg thing, and the occasional (or conspicuously frequent) footrubs, I haven't had much play in making life good for the baby. Missy gets to feed the baby with turkey legs and cream-of-wheat, and brown sugar. It's not all that bad I's'pose, at least I can bend over far enough to speak to the baby from the cold outer-realm.
Now I feel better. On the lighter side of life, Thanksgiving was awesome. We had 17 people in the house and cooked two turkeys (one deep fried, one marinated/roasted). It was sweet. That reminds me, I'd like to spend a moment on language.
I like it when people say "bad." I.e. "That movie was bad."
And I say, "you mean, bad meaning 'good'?"
"Yes."
Me: "Because, that's the exact opposite of what you just said."
Example two: I saw a car yesterday with a sticker that said "Synister Dreams." I think it was the name of the car. Well, Mr. Driver, sinister does not mean cool. It means not cool. If you're sinister, you're probably a villian or bad guy of sorts. COME ON! If you're car is sinister, you should call it "The Joker Mobile." If you feel inclined to give your car a name reflecting it's cool-ness extra-ordinare, call it "The Batmobile," or "Cool Runnings" or something.
I believe the most fitting, appropriate slang term to come from "our" generation is "sweet." The word reflects all that is good and right in the world, like sweets (cinnabon, chocolate chip cookies, etc.). In fifth grade it was cool to say "sweet-vicous." Not sure who added the "vicous," because "Sweet" works just fine alone. Say it now, please, because you know this blog is sweet.
Keep the faith.
