DEAR GOD: STOP FUCKING WITH ME

I got a little nosebleed right before class today.

The department secretary sits right outside my office. "You know when I got nosebleeds? When I was pregnant. Just turned my head and it'd start pouring out."

Ya think that someone who sees me walking past 25 times a day might have noticed the extra eight pounds in my gut and how often I'm going to pee?

FUCK THE PIO.

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My favorite committee from last year? The one where we got stuff done? This year it's loaded with dinosaurs. Dinosaurs with grudges against the institution and each other.

ROAR.

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The book manuscript, marked up, came back today. It's so close to going out the fucking door... but why couldn't it have come in on Monday, after Miss T.'s birthday party? About which I am shitting bricks. It's her third, but our first party...

Comments

[Renee]

I've got my fingers crossed!

[Jody]

Hey, as far as pregnancy symptoms go, I think it beats constipation.....

The birthday-party jitters always seem silly in retrospect. But only in retrospect, and only for eleven months. Then the next birthday party looms, and everything seems Too Stressful again.

Happy third birthday! THREE!