Caterwauling

Suppose you went on three or four dates with someone. (Five? Six? Define “dates.” Hmm.)

And suppose you drank yourself into cirrhosis, to the point where you were either throwing up all over the place, making out with random strangers and/or dancing on tabletops. Each time.

Suppose the person doing the asking ABANDONED YOU at a bar because he was so through with your behavior last month. Like, you had to get A CAB back to your car even though you were going back to the same place.

Would you be as floored when said person called to ask you to dinner?

And would you accept out of morbid curiosity?

And perhaps wonder about the timing? Even though they couldn’t possibly KNOW what you’re up to?

I would say there’d better be an apology in it, but then I’d have to atone for those three or four disasters I caused …

It has been such a hard day so far. And it’s 10:20 a.m.

But photos of a brand-new baby girl have been texted my way. And I can stop my crabbing long enough to ooh and aah. Because, that kid is cute.

I sent the pix to mom and she said she wants one. She has been asking for a snowflake baby and I kind of laugh. Because, when would I hatch that thing?

Anyway now that all the girls in the office are on the baby-frenzy precipice today, the baby’s daddy says he expects we’ll have a little baby boom here soon.

Hah.

As Mom said, “Guess it won’t be you. You are tied to your desk without a life. So good for them, as you say.”

You know, just when I think I am happy that I’ve made it to 40-ish without kids, a conversation like this has to happen.

Yep, never gonna meet Mr. Right with my life. That’s for sure. Never gonna have a kid at this rate.

I look at my friends who just accept that they didn’t get the life they wanted. And I look at others who fight for everything even after they repeatedly don’t get it.

And I know this life isn’t “enough” for me. But what would make it that way?

Maybe it’s not having a cute munchkin (and let’s face it, after my whole life of saying if I had to have a kid, I wanted it to be a son. But I really really really would rather have a little girl. If life worked out that way).

After all, cute little-girl munchkins also cry and scream and date and drive and sleep with interesting men. Like their mothers. 🙂

But I guess I wish I had the opportunity to live (or refuse) that life instead of not even having the chance to have it.

I’m really not in baby fever, mind you. I will swallow extra pills to prove it. (Washed down with whiskey. The only way to take pills in my house.)

But I guess it kind of bugs me that the younger (!) girls in my office still have a shot at having it all and I feel like I’m the one lagging them to the point that I will never catch up.

So I say I’m fine and I honestly am fine but I don’t know what to do if I ever end up really being NOT fine about it all.