1) I live in constant fear that one day I will absentmindedly burp or fart in my cubicle at work. My stomach growls at an alarming volume when I'm hungry (which is constantly) and I always worry that someone will hear that and assume it's a fart. Sometimes I lay in bed at night and go over the details of the day and wonder to myself, "Could it be possible that I've actually already farted and didn't even notice it?" We eat a lot of beans in this house, so it's hardly out of the question.
2) It's really hard not to incorporate avocado, goat cheese, and wasabi peas into every meal right now. It's irresistible. Probably not that enticing with oatmeal, or yogurt, but you know. Dinner. Exhibit A: this otherwise unassuming and probably not even appetizing salad:
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I don't count sheep. I count wasabi peas. Or I count down the minutes until I can wake up and eat some more.
3) On another work and food-related note, the other day I received a package at work from Mrs. Fields' Cookies. It was addressed to "Katie (Lastname) A Team." This was super intriguing and I thought for a hot second that maybe Mr. T sent me a box of gold chains. Unfortunately, it wasn't anything that I could pawn - it was a basket full of little packages of assorted cookies.
The packing slip revealed that the shipping label had just been abbreviated - it was supposed to say, "and team." However, there was NO indication anywhere as to who sent this mysterious and probably delicious package (I wouldn't know about the deliciousness - I make it a rule not to eat junk food that shows up at work, because there's just so much of it, and sugar at any point in my day other than post-dinner just gives me a headache and makes me want to go to sleep immediately).
I feel bad, because I'd like to thank whichever vendor so kindly sent us this bounty, but I seriously have no clue. It's like the awkward post-wedding situation of, "Hey, did you give us this throw blanket with our faces laser printed on it?" because there wasn't a gift tag and we've narrowed it down to you and one other couple...sooo...you either gave us this awkward and clearly non-returnable gift, or no gift at all...sorry to put you on the spot."
Except I can't exactly email ALL of the probably 50+ vendors from whom we purchase and say, "Hey, did you send us a basket of cookies? If you did, thank you, and if you didn't, one of your competitors did, so you better step up your game. Also, next time please send a fruit basket or booze. Thanksbye."
4) Sometimes I feel like I have no idea what other women mean when they talk about the pressure to do it all. Then I step back and look at my life and realize that I am in complete denial if I think I don't succumb to that pressure. But more importantly I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the one imposing it on myself. It's like I don't know how to just be. I can't just chill. I need some form of validation that I have worth, and I need to feel like I have goals to achieve, be they large or small.
When you go from overachieving student to fully independent and gainfully employed adult, and thus you are no longer receiving grades or competing for a job, how do you know you aren't failing at life? Apart from my employer continuing to give me a paycheck every month and my husband continuing to be married to me, there is no solid validation from the outside world. But, strangely, I feel like 'avoiding getting fired or divorced' is not the most productive way to measure success.
How do I live with this? How do I create a life situation that feels vaguely like maybe I'm not a downwardly spiraling derelict with nothing to live for? It's all me and my to-do lists. Every check mark feels like getting a 100 on a quiz. Crossing off every item without half-assing any of them, not even a little bit, feels like getting straight A's.
List-mania gets especially bad on the weekends, because it's the only time when I can really get in the zone and get things done around the house. The work week is basically a white knuckle ride where I do everything I can to just hang on and make sure Andy and I will be fed and clothed from Monday morning until Friday night. The weekend is my time to shine. Or my time to make my floors and toilets shine. It was so bad this weekend that I was racing against the clock, frantically putting away laundry and scrubbing my toilet at 7:45 on Sunday night so that I could justify sitting down with a glass of wine to watch Mad Men.
...Well that escalated quickly. What started out as a casual fart discussion rapidly devolved into some real talk about life pressures. But maybe that was a natural evolution? From gastric pressures to existential ones? No?
What about you? Do you sleep like a baby or do you lie awake worrying about the state of the world? Do you feel free as a bird, or are you weighed down by your desire to eat wasabi peas until your mouth goes numb?
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