Thursday, January 09, 2014

Anal punchers, rectal scrunchers

Whenever I see the word "recital" in print, I ALWAYS first mistake it as "rectal."

On Wednesdays and Thursdays, I drop Sam off in the morning at the babysitter's, and then I get to come home and take a leisurely shower and make myself a leisurely semi-lumberjack breakfast, and maybe read something short, and then head off to work.  Which I am doing today.  And I usually enjoy it very much, and I am at least semi-enjoying it today.  But I've been noticing lately how much I enjoy hearing Sam run around the house, giggling and screaming and babbling, and how, when he is not around, life can feel too silent and claustrophobic.  Which is weird, because one of my biggest fears before having a kid is that I would miss my beloved "peace and quiet" too much, and that I would resent my kid for getting rid of it.  Well, it's true, the kid has mostly gotten rid of it, but I don't seem to miss it too much.  Peace and quiet feels a little too empty these days.  Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. 

Related:  I always used to feel like I didn't have a whole lot to lose, and I always regarded this as a good thing.  These days I feel like I have a lot to lose, and while that feels very good, it also feels very bad. 

Related:  I always used to talk myself out of worrying about things by asking myself, "What's the worst that could happen?"  And the answer would usually be, "That person will yell at me," or "I will lose my shitty job."  These days the answers carry more weight, like, "My kid could die," or "I will lose this job that I really seem to love."  Again, this is both great and terrible.  How can I talk myself out of worrying now?

I'm looking forward to this weekend, for no reason in particular. 

I had, perhaps, the best hot chocolate of my life yesterday. 

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