I’m exhausted, people.
I’m due in a month, and I’m panicking just a bit. I’ve spent the past week running around frantically trying to wrap up last-minute work things so I can go out on maternity leave in peace. (And—unlike last time—not find myself on a conference call with an irate consultant two hours after giving birth.) The thing is, although I technically have a month to go, T arrived three weeks early, so in my mind, I’m all, “Ohmahgahhhh! It could be next weeeeeeek!” And then I start hyperventilating and/or eating more Trader Joe’s cheese puffs. This happens more often than I’d like to admit.
My nesting instinct has kicked into high gear as well. Since, however, Jewish custom prohibits me from doing any real prep work for the baby (i.e., washing the clothes, organizing the nursery, etc.) I've instead thrown myself into all manner of inane, time sucking organizational projects around the apartment. Why SHOULDN’T I finally put that jumbled box of pictures from ten years ago into an album? SO WHAT if they’re primarily from the year I spent in Israel, and serve very little purpose other than capturing me in numerous states of drunkenness/fashion missteps/self-tanner overdose? What if someone wants to see them? WHAT IF? And what’s wrong with re-organizing my closet into not only skirt/pants/shirt sections, but subcategories of color? WHO CARES that I can’t fit into any of it right now? It's IMPORTANT, DAMMIT.
As if that’s not enough, my normally cheery attitude has been replaced with that of a monstrous bitch. (A scary, raging monstrous bitch who may or may not have gotten into a slight altercation with a jerk at a salad store yesterday. I inadvertently cut him in the line, and he started yelling at me. Like, YELLING FOR REALS. Whereupon I called him something Not Nice At All.)
But let’s not dwell on the negative! Let’s focus on the good things happening! Like the whole baby thing! And the fact that I finally did something in preparation for said baby! Namely, J and I exhaustively researched and subsequently picked out a double stroller (many thanks to my in-laws for getting it for us!):
(It is awesome, but GARGANTUAN.)In other good news, I ultimately wimped out and decided not to report the Worst Cab Driver Ever (a number of people confirmed for me that a disciplinary hearing would be involved; I didn't want to go, nor did I want to put the driver through that) and do you know what happened? My husband returned from work with a Louis Vuitton handbag that his boss had received as a gift, and didn’t want. So I ended up with it. Coincidence? I THINK NOT. I am now a firm believer in karma.
Finally, we are celebrating T’s birthday on Sunday, which I’m really looking forward to, particularly since I’ve decided not to kill myself making the cake this year. His birthday isn’t for another week and a half, but given my womb’s apparent penchant for evicting its inhabitants a few weeks early, we figured it’d be a good idea to party early this year, just in case. We’re also refraining from having a big bash like last year, and instead just having a small family party. I felt guilty at first, but after reflecting upon it, I’m banking on the fact that as long as there’s cake and at least one train-related object, he will not care in the least.
Happy Memorial Day weekend to you all!