Oh, hey. I hope you're sleeping right now.
(I wish I was! I'll pay for this later!)
I'm not, obviously, and the thoughts currently plaguing my brain are curiously related to blogging. Why? Who knows? But if I get it all written and published, will I be able to sleep? Worth a try.
And so I present: Why I'm a Terrible Pregnant Blogger. In Parts!
Part I: No pictures. As a general rule, I don't like to take pictures of myself. Even less so during pregnancy. I actually cringed when I looked at the 37-weeks-pregnant picture I posted a year ago (just before I linked to it) because, why did I ever post that?
Bloggers are supposed to be narcissistic - that's what makes them bloggers - and perhaps I am, but I'm not vain. Never have been.
Part II: The long journey to "Publish." I write (many!) posts in my head, but when I sit down to write them, they just don't seem that important. No one wants to read about my relationship with Holocaust memoirs, for example. It's not relevant to anything.
Part III: Once again, I don't feel like I can write what I'm really thinking. If I wrote a "How are we going to make a house payment this month?" post every time I was thinking about it, that's ALL my blog would be. Seriously. Forget about the plans for the nursery .... I can't even buy a maternity shirt right now. Or bacon.
Now, I have no problem talking about money, but it makes a lot of people uncomfortable. So let's just say we're poor, and the perpetual job search-application-interview-letdown process has been more than we (I) could handle at times. I have to keep telling myself there has GOT to be a reason for this.
Part IV: Perma-furious. This is very much related to Part III.
I've pretty much been mad at the world since Slice got fired for no (good) reason, then replaced with someone less experienced - who is "loyal" and, by the way, someone else's SON - and then everyone pretended like nothing happened and our entire livelihood/plans/goals weren't just tossed by the wayside.
I'm trying not to be bitter. I really am.
But it would be a whole lot easier if we could get out of this place, where the situation is brought up again and again by (well-meaning) people who want to know what's happened, why Slice isn't at the golf course anymore, etc. etc.
Part V: Holding my tongue. Also related to Part IV, see the progression here?
I suffer from an unfortunate side effect of pregnancy, where the part of my brain that tells me "this is unacceptable behavior" (dear Shawna!) simply stops working. I imagine it a little bit like being drunk. I know of perhaps a few people I have offended, but there are possibly many more that I am blissfully unaware of.
I'm trying to hold my tongue, which turns into second-guessing everything I want to write, which turns into writer's block, which turns into probably every reason I have listed here rolled into one.
This my brain on pregnancy.