Babycare made easy
Free food! Went to fancy restaurant with my job and just ate up a storm. But sadly, could not drink. And this is the thing you see. Taking care of the baby this way is soooo easy. What do I have when I go to these fancy work-related restaurant things. Steak--every time. That's all I have to do to provide for the little sucker. Eat a stake, some wilted greens. Or, in the case tonight, some spinach with black truffle butter. That spinach was without a doubt the most amazing delicious spinach I have ever had. I would turn tricks for that spinach.
At the moment I have to do almost noooothing to keep the baby alive, nourished, clean, safe now. I have to cut rich Angus beef into bite sized pieces. I have to order a side of juice and greens and gobble those greens down. Sometimes I find myself also getting profiteroles (actually, they had a more exotic name but I forgot what it was) but that's optional--just a little added bonus for my little offspring. I do have to pee and sleep more on his behalf. I have to be itchy. Occasionally a strange vinegary smell clings to me. But this--this is nothing! So damn easy!
That's all I have to do now. In a month it will all be over and the processes will develop a frightening complexity. Oh God help me. Every day that goes by I think: Uh, is there any backing out now? Is it too late?
The answer is yes, yes it is too late. Lazy me. Now I'm going to pay. I've felt guilty for so long about all my character flaws and always wondered: Will it be a relief when the jig is finally up and everything irresponsible I've ever done and inclined to do comes back to me? Will the final clang of the door of freedom shutting behind me be a relief given that I've waited and dreaded so long?
The answer there is no, no it will not be a relief. C'mon. How dumb can I be? We know we're going to get old and die. Is that a relief when that happens? (Well, it might be in theory but no one seems to think so when push comes to shove.)
I keep thinking about our yearly mottos and how we forgot to make one up this year. Well, the year I lived alone in the Midwest it was "{Insert Midwestern city name}: It's not that bad!" And the year I left grad school after so many carefree and halcyon days it was "I had my fun and now it's over." That might not be a bad one for this year...My temporary motto is going to be: "Give until it hurts." This is it. I'll be selfish again perhaps but it will never again be OK to be selfish.
Here's something that makes no sense: I feel this intense love for the unseen baby while also fearing that I will not love the unseen baby.
Luckily, I didn't have to turn any tricks for the spinach. Just had to be schmoozed...amazingly, incompetent me already has a job whereas some of these poor suckers--who probably really are better than I in some way I could never in a million years admit to myself (who can't help looking down on them a little--my one big chance to look down on someone)--don't have a job. Of course, I wish I could say the same thing about my darling beloved Chico. Maybe I shouldn't look down on them come to think of it. They need a job. Instead of giving the job to someone who is the most qualified my urge is to give it to someone who is the most needy. The single mom, etc. Well, I'll be pushing for that anyway. I doubt it'll work but it's worth a shot.
I know it is not exculpatory in any way but I swear if I do ever look down on anyone I only look down on white men with Ivy League degrees. It's not really looking down--more like I think on their behalf 'is that all there is?'
It makes it all the more amusing when I get my comeuppance...they were coming to us begging hat in hand for a job and I think: Hmmmph! And then of course the job they end up taking is way better than my job. 'Cause their Ivy League degree is better than my Ivy League degree. And whenever you are smug about anything you always get your comeuppance. Well, I do anyway.
I wish everyone did.
Ken and Barbie break up
from everything is wrong
Thumbsucking adults... Gosh, now I'm sorry I gave it up! I thought you were supposed to.
From Idletype
Free food! Went to fancy restaurant with my job and just ate up a storm. But sadly, could not drink. And this is the thing you see. Taking care of the baby this way is soooo easy. What do I have when I go to these fancy work-related restaurant things. Steak--every time. That's all I have to do to provide for the little sucker. Eat a stake, some wilted greens. Or, in the case tonight, some spinach with black truffle butter. That spinach was without a doubt the most amazing delicious spinach I have ever had. I would turn tricks for that spinach.
At the moment I have to do almost noooothing to keep the baby alive, nourished, clean, safe now. I have to cut rich Angus beef into bite sized pieces. I have to order a side of juice and greens and gobble those greens down. Sometimes I find myself also getting profiteroles (actually, they had a more exotic name but I forgot what it was) but that's optional--just a little added bonus for my little offspring. I do have to pee and sleep more on his behalf. I have to be itchy. Occasionally a strange vinegary smell clings to me. But this--this is nothing! So damn easy!
That's all I have to do now. In a month it will all be over and the processes will develop a frightening complexity. Oh God help me. Every day that goes by I think: Uh, is there any backing out now? Is it too late?
The answer is yes, yes it is too late. Lazy me. Now I'm going to pay. I've felt guilty for so long about all my character flaws and always wondered: Will it be a relief when the jig is finally up and everything irresponsible I've ever done and inclined to do comes back to me? Will the final clang of the door of freedom shutting behind me be a relief given that I've waited and dreaded so long?
The answer there is no, no it will not be a relief. C'mon. How dumb can I be? We know we're going to get old and die. Is that a relief when that happens? (Well, it might be in theory but no one seems to think so when push comes to shove.)
I keep thinking about our yearly mottos and how we forgot to make one up this year. Well, the year I lived alone in the Midwest it was "{Insert Midwestern city name}: It's not that bad!" And the year I left grad school after so many carefree and halcyon days it was "I had my fun and now it's over." That might not be a bad one for this year...My temporary motto is going to be: "Give until it hurts." This is it. I'll be selfish again perhaps but it will never again be OK to be selfish.
Here's something that makes no sense: I feel this intense love for the unseen baby while also fearing that I will not love the unseen baby.
Luckily, I didn't have to turn any tricks for the spinach. Just had to be schmoozed...amazingly, incompetent me already has a job whereas some of these poor suckers--who probably really are better than I in some way I could never in a million years admit to myself (who can't help looking down on them a little--my one big chance to look down on someone)--don't have a job. Of course, I wish I could say the same thing about my darling beloved Chico. Maybe I shouldn't look down on them come to think of it. They need a job. Instead of giving the job to someone who is the most qualified my urge is to give it to someone who is the most needy. The single mom, etc. Well, I'll be pushing for that anyway. I doubt it'll work but it's worth a shot.
I know it is not exculpatory in any way but I swear if I do ever look down on anyone I only look down on white men with Ivy League degrees. It's not really looking down--more like I think on their behalf 'is that all there is?'
It makes it all the more amusing when I get my comeuppance...they were coming to us begging hat in hand for a job and I think: Hmmmph! And then of course the job they end up taking is way better than my job. 'Cause their Ivy League degree is better than my Ivy League degree. And whenever you are smug about anything you always get your comeuppance. Well, I do anyway.
I wish everyone did.
Ken and Barbie break up
from everything is wrong
Thumbsucking adults... Gosh, now I'm sorry I gave it up! I thought you were supposed to.
From Idletype
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