labor

I just spent a couple hours reading past posts of the best blogger of all time, including a hilarious and terrifying encounter with heather b. armstrong's labor story.  I am officially freaked out.  and if I never see a gynocologist in my life, I will die a happy woman.  I also spent a couple hours listening to the best talker of all time describing multiple pairs of silver shoes and why they are the most amazing shoes ever and how amazing she will look when wearing them.  and about labor and vaginas getting cut up and sewn back together as a result of routine childbirth.  like I said -- officially FREAKED OUT!!! God was not smart in giving me this information, in furnishing me with yet another reason to hate men.  clearly I am a woman who has yet to fall in love.  but that's no reason not to enjoy it while I can.  after yet another afternoon of swearing to do the homework now that I probably will not do on saturday either, I slept for four hours and did nothing else productive except get freaked out and learn the value of silver shoes.  it's a good thing I haven't told my mom about this blog yet or she'd actually be worried about me and this uncharacteristic ambivalence for the Things That Matter.  I always have wonderful plans about the things that I will do every day and make me feel like a complete person.  usually lists work for list-making people such as myself.  I wonder what's happening to me and how I'm going to fix it.  but in the meantime, reading dooce out loud to Amanda, obscenities at all, and laughing so hard I can't talk is strangely unsurprisingly cathartic.