Oh, the guilt.

I must be undergoing some sort of introductory course: "You are not Doing Everything You Can for Everybody, You Loser 101." I can't claim to be violently ill all of the time or even some of the time, but I can say that I am blindsided about every other day by complete exhaustion (Must nap! Stat!) or general stomachachey nausea (Blurgh. Tums, please.) Unfortunately, there's not a good way to explain myself to the people I am neglecting. In my line of work (the one that's filled with "social work") my little bouts of pukeyness and sleepiness are small potatoes and if I even start to explain myself, I get looks that translate to: shut up and work, Whiny Wendy. Or that's what I see.

I can only imagine the way that I'll feel when I have to explain napping to a screaming newborn. I've seen the looks that infants give. They're more like: "Fix my problem, you lazy bitch. WAHHHHHHHHH!" Ugh. As I sit here, the waves of nausea rolling up from my belly button to the top of my head, I'm hearing Poeia whine because she wants me to move her fuzzy across the room and that is way too much work. Thank god I have a husband to share household burdens. It's a good thing that we're equally responsible for the fix I'm in, otherwise he would probably find me absolutely insufferable right now.

xoxo
k