welcome to my pity party

I'm stressed. Like biting my fingernails way too much, losing sleep kind of stressed. I'm stressed because I've been working a ton. Because I've resorted to blogging while pumping. Because I'm pumping in a cold concrete bank vault (my office is in an old bank building). Because this flimsy plastic chair is hurting my tush. Because I'm pumping less than my daughter needs. Because she's been a total crank pot and crappy sleeper the past few days and we can't figure out why. Because she's growing up too fast. Because I'm exhausted. Because there ain't nuthin glamorous about being a working mama. Because I hate uncertainty and life feels like one big ball of it these days. Because I'm bitter about things I shouldn't be. Because I'm bitter at all. Because there's never enough time. Because I miss my family and friends. Because I haven't hugged my mom in almost 4 months. Because sometimes even 30 year olds just need their moms. (Even if their moms aren't come cry on my shoulder types.) Because my best friend hasn't met my baby yet. Because life is nothing like we thought it would be when we were drinking wine straight from the bottle on a London rooftop 10 years ago. Because that was 10 years ago. Because I need to get over it. Because this should be a post about all the things I have to be happy about but it's not. Because I'm grumpy.

But tomorrow is another day, and even Jessi Spano eventually got it together.  So there's hope. And until then there's wine. And Emma's laugh. And dairy-free congo bars. And Jared's arms. And marshmallows. And my sister's reassuring texts. And wine...