Standing on your feet for eight hours is brutal.
Standing on your feet for more than one is brutal.
Okay, don’t be a baby.
My back aches. I’m getting old.
But not as old as my husband. Thank God.
Shit. Jon’s birthday is on Saturday.
I can’t believe he wants a cake instead of cake balls. I mean, bites. Cake bites.
I haven’t baked anything in a long time.
I wish I didn’t feel so overwhelmed lately.
Didn’t I take this job so I wouldn’t be overwhelmed?
I wonder if I’ll be laid off.
I wonder if I’ll be fired for blogging.
I wish I was a better writer.
I wish I didn’t feel like I ran out of things to say as soon as I moved to WordPress.
I wish I was better at making people feel better.
I’m too sensitive.
I get it from my mother.
My mother, who acted as if I’d just kicked a puppy, when I said I didn’t enjoy sailing.
Actually, I didn’t even say I didn’t enjoy sailing.
But I suppose it was pretty obvious when I kept saying “maybe” and “we’ll see” when she asked if I’d go again.
I can’t believe she bought a boat.
I got seasick.
I didn’t think I was prone to seasickness.
I guess it only makes sense. I get carsick all the time.
But I’ve been on boats before and never felt sick.
Well, not sailboats.
Fuck, that thing bounced around a lot.
If I’m getting on a boat again, I’d rather it be on a lake.
I wonder if we’ll ever move to Minnesota.
We could buy a house in Minnesota.
God, we’ll never be able to afford a house in California.
And we’re about to go into so much debt getting Jon’s teeth fixed. Repaired. Replaced.
I need to make a dentist appointment.
And a counseling appointment.
I wish there were never any awkward moments.
Sometimes my life feels like one big awkward moment.
Like today, when I accidentally referred to my male boss as a “mom.” You stupid idiot.
Well, he kind of acts like a woman.
I will totally be fired for this.
As long as I’m making as much as Dooce when the time comes.
Oh wait. Ads. WordPress. Maybe not.
Why does it bother me so much that I’m no longer running BlogHer ads?
Who really flippin’ cares?
The money it would cost to be able to run ads on the blog would far outweigh that which I’d earn.
That’s just dumb.
Why is it so important to me to feel as if I belong?
I wish I didn’t like candy so much.
Seriously, I wish I didn’t.
Being able to cross ‘my weight’ off the list of things to worry about would be a tremendous relief.