Well, my sister is in the process of giving birth right now, and here I am, blogging away. I ordinarily would use such a chance to skip a day, but I didn’t post yesterday, a Wednesday which are notorious for being hectic. And I felt like I should post something up today.
I have to work tonight too, which I’m using as an excuse to not go to the hospital and wait on pins and needles. (Though I have been told that I’m great in waiting rooms.) I ordinarily would also use this to get out of work, but Thursdays are always super busy, understaffed, and overworked. Though that middle one shouldn’t be a problem, we’ve got about eight new people signed up to work, mostly community service, which should make for an interesting night. It’ll probably fall to me to supervise those eight people. The manager gives them a rough overview of the job, and then leaves me to attempt to answer their questions. (I have on occasion shouted, “I don’t know and I don’t care! I don’t get paid enough to care!” at a person. Oddly enough, they didn’t ask me anything else that night.
I’m also not terribly thrilled about having a baby in the house. You’re probably reading this and thinking “That ass. How could you not love having a baby around? So cute and cuddly.” To you I say, I don’t care. (I don’t get paid enough to care, yet again.) Babies do have a cute and cuddly side, all pink and rosy, but to me (which is pretty limited, I don’t have a lot of experience with babies)they’re more trouble than their worth. I’ve parted with the thought that the house will ever be clean and quiet at the same time. (And I have issues trying to write when the house is messy and loud.) I like things that smell nice and can hold up their end of the conversation. Babies might be cute, but they aren’t exactly good at holding up their end of the conversation.
And am I the only one who’s noticed that they generally start to cry or otherwise divert attention to themselves right when I’m about to get to the good part of a story. I spend five minutes building up to a great punchline, during which the babies all quiet, and then suddenly, just as I’m about to get to the good part, they suddenly feel the need to let loose a few tears and sobs. The moment has gone, and I’ve suddenly told a very boring story. It is well known that I am a narcissistic cuss who, well, “cannot bear a conversation of which I am not the chief topic.” I have a feeling that there are going to be a lot of these kinds of conversations.
And I know what you’re probably thinking, something like this “That asshole. That asshole. His sister is in unbelievable pain, bring a life into this world, and here he is, bitching about not being the center of attention.” (See, I told you I’m not totally lacking in self-awarness, just mostly.) to you I say,
This is my blog. See that warning up there, it’s not a joke. I will probably offend you. If you don’t like, well, you see that little button up there by the address box? The one with the arrow? Click it and bye-bye.
And I just want to vent about this here, simply because I can express myself better through writing. (I don’t feel the need to be as nice. I always tell people, “I’m not nice, I just don’t want to hurt some one’s feelings and then feel bad.”) I also think that if I were to say these things in person, I probably would offend some one. (I may be doing so through writing too.) And I’m sure that there are a lot of you out there who feel the same way,(As far as I know, a lot of my blog audience is single and/or childless.) whether or not you want to admit it. (I am saying what everyone is thinking — My god, I am becoming Kathy Griffin.)
There, my big secret is out, I don’t like babies/kids. (I am actually really good with most kids though.)
On the knitting front, things have hopefully temporarily stalled. (I say hopefully that it’s only temporary, I’m not hoping things will stall temporarily, because that’s already happened. I noticed a mistake on my Rorschach sweater (the difference between double increase, and double decrease) that meant I have to pull it all out. I’ve got maybe six rows worked on it — which is kind of a big deal when your rows are about two hundred stitches. I haven’t had more than a minute or two to work on the Seemless Saddle-Shouldered Yoke.