maybe the postpartum shit has just come late. is that what this is though? i don’t feel like throwing my baby out of the window but i do feel like giving up. i had a dream for work but i’m ready to stop dreaming. things go right for two days then we wake up. so i just keep breaking down and crying and cleaning the same room and picking up the same shit over and over again. my house is really becoming so damn clean. like i’m expecting the fucking president or something. seriously, i’m on my hands and knees polishing the toilet bowl. maybe if i can just get every last piece of laundry done before her next dirty sock hits the floor then things will get better. i’ll see my husband. he’ll have a competent and full staff. new managers will suddenly appear. we will have money to save and i won’t go broke for having a root canal. and why is it that every time i cry tears my boobs cry milk? maybe it’s my body’s own way of self-sabotaging my laundry plan...
meet you for lunch? sure!
yes, we’re free on sunday to do that!
here’s our rent check on time!
we’d love to donate to your cause!
i’m so happy i feel like singing in a grassy field like maria in the sound of music!
we’re heading out for a romantic evening!
we’re going on vacation!
our phones aren’t going to be cut off, ever!
i’m so fucking inspired to do new things!
excuse me, could you please show me the way out of here?
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