I think there's something wrong with my watch.

I’m scared by the things that go through my head sometimes. I’m mean and rotten for no particular reason. Thank god most of this stuff doesn’t come out of my mouth because I would certainly be committed, or at least ostracized to a lonely desert island by this time. I’ve known for a long time that this inner-nasty-person is the main reason for my lovely low self-esteem but I still can’t shake it. I feel like people can see how mean and nasty I really am and they treat me differently because I’m so rotten. Sigh. You want an example? How about the comment I was dying to blurt out to a woman I work with on her gaudy, terrible, neon blue polyester suit. I mean, come ON. That suit just screams “Donate me to a third-world country!” and yet she still wears it religiously. I could go on for hours… Ok. Enough with the daily confessional. How about a pet peeve to lighten things up a bit? I hate stupid people. Man, I hate stupid people. It amazes me how many of them are out there, wandering aimlessly across the earth, screwing things up here and there as they roam around. I need something, anything to get my mind off this constant waiting. Time is just dragging and dragging. I just want to go home and knit until my eyes cross. Is that such a bad thing?


This post makes me seem like I’m in a bad mood or cranky. I’m really not. Honestly. I’m about as content as I could possibly be right now, given the fact that I am feeling like a chicken, sans head right now. In reality, I’m just anxious and peeved. I’ve been reading Misconceptions by Naomi Wolfe and it is not the type of book I really should be reading right now. It’s gotten me all peevish and fired up about the terrible state of child-birth practices in this country. Not something I should be feeling now, since I’m so desperately trying to conceive another child and enter, yet again, into the super-sterile, childbirth-is-to-be-feared world again. I think that what she’s saying resonates so much with me because, despite having a ‘normal’ vaginal birth with E, I wasn’t pleased with myself for not having gone 100% natural. I ‘tried’, but after reading this book I’m more and more convinced I was being set up for failure. Deep in my heart, I wanted a home birth. I wanted a warmer, more nurturing environment to bring my child into the world. It’s not that I look back on the whole experience with anything less than joy, but it would have been nice to feel a little less clinical and cold and, I don’t know, hospital-ish.

Part of me wonders if maybe she was bitter about her own C-section and this book is her outlet to vent that pain of having the less-than-perfect birth that she was expecting. I don’t know. I’ll have to finish the rest of it. Just don’t read that book if you’ve had a C-section, that’s all I’ll say.

So, no, don’t worry about me. I’m not all crazy and wacked out as I seem to be in this message. I’m just antsy and anxious. I swear, the next 11 days are just going to drag by… I think there’s something wrong with my watch…