The one where I pitch a hissyfit.

There is some stuff I have to do at work that needs to be done last year, it is so urgent. This means I went to nurse NikkiZ for the last time and instead of going home with her, like I usually do, I had to take her to MrZ’s office so he could take her home. This makes me very angry and jealous and makes me want to yell “It’s not fair!” and stomp up and down while yanking at my pigtails.

I’m not wearing pigtails.

I like my job, it’s fun. And I get to see NikkiZ every few hours to feed her. But working after hours? While my family eats dinner without me? Makes me a little sad. And possibly bitter. And I might feel a little big guilty. And jealous.

In other words? I’m an all around fun person to be with at this very moment. Good thing I’m the only one left at the office so I can stew in my own bitchy mood and not have to worry about it infecting anyone else.

I used to care, I think.

There was a time, when, if I got to my office in the morning and realized I never switched my brown suede Birkenstocks out for my black dress shoes before I left the house, I would have gone home IMMEDIATELY. As it is, I am currently wearing a cream cable sweater with charcoal slacks and brown suede clogs. And I couldn’t give two flying shits.

(Where, exactly, did the “flying shit” phrase, and it’s millions of variations, originate?)

If I make it into work without spit-up on any of my clothing? I feel pretty damn accomplished. If my boobs haven’t leaked on my top? Then I feel put together. Hell, if I’ve just gotten out of my damn pajamas, I feel runway worthy.

How did this happen? When did I become so careless and apathetic about my appearance? I’ve actually shown up to work more often with my hair in a didn’t-feel-like-showering bun than I care to admit. And makeup? We’re talking foundation, powder, and mascara. And that is a huge step up from the NOTHING I was wearing for the last six months. And don’t get me started about my lack of jewelery. I used to be the QUEEN of accessories, but now? I’m not even wearing my damn wedding ring.

I’m simply a mess. I have until July to clean up my act for Blogher, so that if I meet any of you people, we can at least all PRETEND like I’m the type of woman who showers daily.

I’m a freak show

NikkiZ has woken up every three hours the past 4-6 days or so. She wakes up fidgeting, and I believe realizes she’s hungry – I don’t think the hunger could wake her up since it didnt the month before. It’s been stressing me out a bit because it makes me so damn tired, but I’ll deal, right?

Little did I know that when she DID sleep through the night, only waking up for one feeding like usual, I would wake up with one GIANT boob that was leaking through every shirt and nursing pad in site.

(I only nurse one side at a time, long story.)

Of course, I can’t wake her up to nurse her before we leave because that will get her off track for the rest of the day which will piss off my boss, I’m sure, since I’ve just now figured out a good nursing schedule to begin with. So, I’ll just have to wait until we get to her daycare around 6:30am and feed her then. And hope I don’t run into too many people along the way.

(Oh, and if you’re here because you Googled “One Giant Boob” and my site popped up? Sorry to disappoint you.)

Guilty thief.

Deb did this at her site, and of course, I’m stealing it for my own. I’m a thief like that.

Five of my guilty pleasures:

(1) The O.C. – That show is dumb on so many levels, but I can. not. stop. watching. it. I have no idea what draws me to it every week because the SMART part of my brain (it’s a small part, I know) admits the show is stupid. But, I just can’t help it.

(2) E! TV – When there’s nothing on my TiVo for me to watch (rarely, but it happens) I immediately check out what is on E! TV. I’ll watch just about anyone’s True Hollywood Story and I’ve seen Christina Aguilera’s about ninety million times.

(3) Trashy tabloid mags – ALL OF THEM – I’ll pretty much pick up anything off the checkout aisle and read it. And each time I do, I feel my brain cells dying.

(4) Chik-Fil-A Chicken Biscuits/Sandwiches – LilZ and I became vegetarian at the first of the year (I was a vegetarian many moons ago for several years, LilZ talked me into going back) but I miss Chik-Fil-A with all my heart. I drive past TWO of them everyday on my way to work and I want to eat there so bad I sometimes cry. Seriously.

(5) Popular fiction. I rarely read anymore (books? what are those?) but when I do, it’s almost always something in the Popular Fiction section. Koontz, Cornwell, Patterson – those are my faves.

Now – make me feel better – what are YOUR guilty pleasures?

Thanks again, Deb.

My peeps.

I have this thing, about adults. More often than not, when I’m with more than one other adult, I feel incredibly out of place. I feel that part of it is because I still don’t feel like an adult myself (yes, I know, I’m 30, embrace it already) but the other part is I’m really self conscious that I’ll say or do something incredibly moronic. Like exclaim, “New Orleans is a VERY large state, you know.”

(Don’t ask.)

I enjoy chatting with NikkiZ’s teachers when I go to nurse her, but today? There were several other women in there – training, I believe – and one other mother who I don’t know yet. This propelled me into my eek-I-can’t-function-around-other-grown-ups mode and I immediately honed in on some of the toddlers to give me an excuse not to talk to the adults in the room. Before long I was off in my own world making goofy faces and fart noises with my lips while interacting with the babies.

Now I’m thinking that might not have helped my cause to fit in with adults. Unless, of course, those adults are related to Robin Williams.