Things I Do, Now (i.e., I'd never do this stuff pre-baby, seriously!)

Since I've had R, I find myself doing things that surprise me, sadden me (as in, pathetic-sad), and even embarrass me. Like:

1. I get into the driver's seat of the car, look over, and find in the cup holder a stale cube of bread (in plastic wrap, I assure you), a leftover bribe for getting R into the car seat without too much back-arching and screeching. I snatch it up, thinking "Jackpot," and devour it, utterly indifferent to the number of days it's been sitting there.

2. I never am able to finish my morning cup of coffee uninterrupted, so whenever I return to it, it's cold. If I made myself a fresh cup each time this happened, I'd drink us right into the poorhouse. So throughout the day, I just keep topping up my coffee with hot water, whenever I have the chance, until by the end of the day, I'm drinking a very translucent brown water for reasons I don't even understand.

3. (a) I often find myself at home, feeling weak with hunger, but unable to do anything about it because the baby's sleeping and there's nothing in the house to eat. I'll occasionally stagger into the kitchen, open all the cupboards, stare into the fridge, confirm there's nothing to eat, and drink some more pale-brown water (see 2 above).

(b) I often find myself out of the house, rushing somewhere, feeling weak with hunger but unable to do anything about it because the baby's awake, but only for the next two hours, and there's just not enough time. There's never enough time.

(c) Alright, sometimes there is food to be had. But there's only so much peanut butter, cheese, and bread a person can eat. Why peanut butter, cheese, and bread? Because these are the things that can be taken out and gulped down in approximately 30 seconds or less. Mind you, gulping down peanut butter or cheese is extremely hazardous, and should never be done unless you have a baby standing at your feet, yanking at your pant leg and wailing. In which case, you'll put your life on the line, day after day. Also, a tip to new mothers: Eat standing. Don't waste those precious seconds on stupid things like carrying the food somewhere, pulling out a chair, sitting down--all that la-di-dah nonsense.

4. I come up with asinine fantasies, such as procuring skunk spray (I've never Googled it, but is there any doubt that somebody sells it online?) and leaking it down into my neighbor's balcony, which is right below our apartment and where she emerges every freakin' hour, from 5am in the morning until 1am at night (okay, there is a short reprieve some time in the middle of the day), to smoke cigarettes. The smoke rises up and for some reason gets sucked into our apartment, if our windows are open. Sometimes it's just too hot and stuffy to keep the windows closed all the time, though, and so I'll open them, the fumes inevitably come rushing in, and when I imagine R inhaling this second-hand smoke, that's when the juvenile ideas start churning.

5. The other day, I microwaved (get your pens out, everyone, this is an original recipe, from me to you) some leftover white rice, then stirred in a handful of frozen peas (thawed with hot water) and half a can of tuna. Ambrosia from the gods--is what you'd think too, after being on a steady diet of cheese, peanut butter, and bread for the past year. I might have even moaned a little, while eating this feast. Oh my god, my stomach just growled in recollection. I need to stop blogging and find something real to eat.