Special Emergency Bitching Post

My post this morning was falsely optimistic. I know that the kind of people who revel in lemony freshness would argue that I should just smile and then I'll start to feel happy, but, in my experience, there is nothing better than simply wallowing in it when you feel like shit.

My life of late consists of exactly sixteen activities, rotated randomly throughout the day:

1.) fielding angry phone calls;
2.) making polite phone calls when I feel like screaming;
3.) cleaning food debris out of the kitchen sink drain;
4.) having strangers draw my blood;
5.) having strangers insert balloons into my uterus and then fill them with irritating liquids;
6.) crying;
7.) running out of fat-free half-n-half mid-pour for the fourteenth time since '05 no matter how many gallons I buy and sprinting to the store to get more, because TEA WITH SUGAR AND FAT-FREE HALF-N-HALF IS ON THE SHORT LIST OF THINGS THAT KEEP ME SANE, SO HELP ME;
8.) reassuring my father that, no, of course I'd never walk around alone after dark;
9.) reassuring my mother that all the barbaric procedures I'm undergoing are normal, and that there is nothing at all questionable about filling a healthy 28-year-old woman's Fallopian tubes with a liquid that causes her pulse to drop and sweat to roll down her forehead, oh no;
10.) unloading the dishwasher;
11.) reloading the dishwasher;
12.) mentally (and sometimes literally) telling the obnoxious barking dog upstairs to SHUT THE FUCK UP and wondering how dogmeat would taste when scrambled with free-range eggs in some extra virgin olive oil with a little sea salt and cracked black pepper and just a drop or two of Trappey's Red Devil;
13.) doing laundry;
14.) cleaning up mouse poop;
15.) writing blog entries;
16.) reading blogs.

Guess which activities are my favorite.

Notice that sleeping, shaving my legs, spending quality time with my husband not associated with any tedious chores, and enjoying my life are conspicuously absent.

If we dropped everything and went to Amsterdam, I wonder how long we'd have before the money ran out. I'm a lawyer, so I don't know that having to rent a window in the Red Light District to earn my living would be all that different.