The bad news: I got into an emotional eating contest this weekend with myself.
The good news: I think I won.
I have made a very deliberate attempt to not document my most extreme emotions because I have chosen to remember myself as being strong. This marks a huge break from the historian I used to be; I thought that to be a true historian I needed to document everything, keep every photo, every letter, every artifact of who I was. (If I had the time I’d eliminate full pages from my photo albums because of the insipid nature or obnoxious memories, but I digress.)
So I was thinking about how all-over-the-place I’ve been, emotionally, and I thought, this feels a lot like pregnancy!
(No, stop freaking out. This is NOT an announcement. I am NOT pregnant.)
Then I realized, that’s right, it’s because during the first trimester of both of my pregnancies my husband has been out of work and looking for a job! For all I know, pregnancy for me is actually a cake walk … or it would be if it wasn’t coupled with financial distress. I’m not sure I want to test out that theory. Ever. The jury is still out on our family size.
Anyway, now that I’m thinking about a job search as a gestational period, I’m starting to nest. I’m -slowly- decluttering drawers, and trying to organize all the right fung shuy corners (it can’t hurt!) And I’m really looking forward to that beautiful new job that will join our family before we know it! (It had better not take nine months, or you’ll all see a side of me that I will surely regret.)