because I gotta

I'm not feeling clever or smart right now but I must communicate a few things:

I got sick yesterday. It was not good. I felt like one of those cracked-out moms on Intervention, like barely conscious enough to keep the baby from hurting herself and little more. I am better today, the world seems a magical place when you're not sick.

It's weird having a microwave in the dining room. As I type this, my frozen-dinner is zapping on the table beside my laptop. Most of the food from our kitchen is now in the dining room as well, like our three bedroom house is becoming studio apartment. The fridge will be moved in here tonight.

I've learned that if you leave the Dance music channel on your cable TV on for more than 30 minutes, you'll want to throw something or run away. Maybe that urge is what other people call a "groove", and that's probably why I can't dance.

Pore strips hurt like hell, but little else in this world is as satisfying as pulling blackheads out of your face. Truly, I love that whole category of grooming, I'll call it pain-grooming: waxing legs, plucking eyebrows, pumicing feet. It's cathartic.

Believe it or not, it's possible to overcommit yourself when you don't have a job. Even though I know how much work it is to take care of the baby, people ask me to do stuff with the look of "just say yes, it's not like you have a job." And then of course I say "yes." And then later when I can't sleep at night and my bowels stage a riot, I think "why can't I just tell people no? why do I have to pretend I can do everything?"
Okay I know the answer is pride. Next time I'm just going to say "no!" and throw a tantrum on the floor, just for humility's sake.
Note: The people who ask me to do stuff that overwhelms me, don't read this blog, so if you're feeling like you're part of the problem, you're not. However, if I'm working on something for you, it might take longer than I said it would. [eeek face]