This is a list of all the things could possibly be stressing me out. Maybe if I write it down it will seem less daunting.
The trip. Work. Laundry. Dirty House. Tumors in my uterus. Sex. Shaving my legs. Motherhood. Being stressed out. Marriage. Money. My diet. My son throwing his toys over the gate. Packing clothes. Cake. Plumbing problems. Customs and Border Patrol. The weather. Heather Spohr’s pregnancy (I can’t help it. I’m worried to tears). My son watching too much tv. Speech therapy. Leaky roof. Family photos. Dad’s new girlfriend. My skin. The phone bill. Adoption. My boss. My ex boyfriend. The Wonderpets. My Doctor. My birth control pills. My hands and feet falling asleep all the time. This damn zit above my eyebrow. Pregnancy. Salvador Dali.
See? It seems sillier already. So why do I feel so physically ill?
I’m going to start by shaving my legs and throwing those damn toys back over the gate.
Tags: Pity Party