…I wonder how long the insomnia will continue?
Secretly, very secretly, I suspect I am lazy. Currently, I am 100% employment-free, and this fact only underscores my suspicions. Oh, I have lots of excuses and in emergency situations have been known to account for my time in semi-credible terms, but deep down, I know the truth. I love having nothing to do.
Under normal circumstances, this would be a source of tension in a marriage. Somehow, though, I lucked out. Not only was Abe completely supportive when I told him last spring that I needed to leave my job (it did help that I got paid through the summer–thank-you, Chicago Public Schools!) but he continues to be almost alarmingly angelic about the current situation.
On his own workday, he will often get up at 4:15 and return home approximately 12 hours later. (Sometimes, as on Monday, that number stretches up to 15 or 16.) He works hard. Really hard. And when he comes home, his work continues as I regale him with tales from the pregnancy front. My head hurts, my back went out, we’re out of toilet paper (sorry, the baby’s still sitting on my bladder) and oh, by the way, even though I napped three times I’m still exhausted so what do you think about ordering pizza tonight? And in return I get hugs, sympathy, and affirmative answers to all of my unreasonable requests. It is sick.
The other day we were in the car and I was moaning about how much I wanted Dairy Queen, and Abe turned to me and said, “You know, your life is really hard.” I stopped moaning and eyed him cautiously. Was he finally going to call me out? I was almost wishing he would when he dashed my nascent hopes by saying–in all earnestness–“No, I mean, think about it. You are a die hard sweets fanatic and foodie who is desperately trying to go vegan. I never thought about it before, but your life is one continuously painful battleground!” He looked at me with admiration gleaming in his big eyes and said, “I just want you to know how much I love you.”
Uhm. Really? I stay at home all day napping and eating while you go out and work twice as hard to pay back my school loans, and that’s what you have to say to me?
That’s when I decided I need to get a job. But here’s the problem. I don’t want a real job. (RE: first paragraph on laziness.) When my mom asked what jobs sound fun to me, here’s the list I came up with: greeter at professional functions, grocery store cashier, mattress tester, organic farm hand, and–this one’s slightly better–piano teacher. At the end of the day, all I really want is to become is a better wife than I currently am and, eventually, be a good stay-at-home mom who bakes awesome vegan cookies. But in the interim between now and when baby is born, I should probably do something more with my life than eat and sleep. Wow, that sounds intimidating. Maybe I should go take a nap.