like I’ve had too much beer, which seriously would be more exciting to me than what’s going on. I get tired so easily. I climb the stairs, I get tired. I fold laundry, I get tired. I walk around the block, I get tired. I slept for twelve hours last night and it’s early afternoon and I could easily take a nap.
What’s really curious is that only two people in my family have talked to me about this. Perhaps the rest are shocked and thinking this was some kind of accident. Or that I’m an idiot for doing this to myself.
I can afford it, I have the perfect job, I’m healthy. I had no good reason for saying no. And now I have a perfect shelf to rest the laptop on while I’m lying on my bed. It’s not so bad.
And I get to whine ALOT to ALOT of people whenever I want to, without feeling annoying.
I get to wear big shirts to hide my gut and not feel like foolish.
I get to walk slowly and pant.
I get to look uncomfortable in long meetings.
I get to take lots and lots of bathroom breaks, which sometimes means I’m wandering up and down the hall but no one will ask.
I get to take as many naps as I want.
People bring me food.
I can be crabby and use pregnancy as as excuse.
I can groan when I get into or out of the car, couch, chairs, toilet and everyone ignores me.
Why wouldn’t I do this to myself?