Operation: Mind Off Labor

(disclaimer: those are not my feet, although I wish they were)

I slept for an ungodly 11 hours last night. Apparently I needed the rest. It was a good thing since I haven't been sleeping well the past couple of weeks. I'd get comfortable and start to nod off, but then have to shift my hips because I had sciatica pain or the baby's position was making it hard for me to get a full breath of air. Just super fun late term pregnancy stuff. But last night? Last night I slept like I was going for the gold. Snoozed like a log. Pretty awesome stuff.

Today my mission is to occupy my time with things that don't have anything to do with babies or being pregnant. I'm trying to keep my mind off of my mounting frustration with labor starting and stopping, so I'm going to get some loose ends tied up and slip a little pampering into the schedule, too.

First on the list was to find out how to finalize my short term disability claim once the baby is born (Yes, that's how my employer does maternity leave, folks... it's a short term disability claim for a fraction of my pay - makes new moms feel awesome! I can't wait to be disabled. Groan.) I got my claim # and filed all that stuff away, so that's one thing checked off the list.

Next was to make an appointment to get a pedicure. Oh, the life! I got a gift certificate for my birthday back in September and have been saving it for a rainy day. Well, it's grey and kinda rainy out there and my feet could use some beautifying. So, in a couple of hours I'll hop on the subway and head to one of my favorite parts of Brooklyn to get my feet "all cuted up" for free at an adorable little salon.

On the way home, if I'm not totally wiped out in the energy department I'll stop by the library and return a DVD (woefully overdue - I've become that person!) and maybe check out a book or two.

Later on tonight I'll patch a pair of Matthew's jeans (yes, we're jeans patchers... he has his favorite pairs and they tend to wear out in choice spots - prime patching opportunities abound in this household), maybe check out online what exhibits are coming up at the Brooklyn Library, then have some friends over for dinner. That sounds like a pretty full day. A full day of stuff not having to do with fixating on labor and delivery.

We'll see how it all goes.

Next time won't you sing with me?

Amazed. Bewildered. Captivated. Delighted. Excited. Frenzied. Gaga. Hopeful. Intimidated. Jubilant. K. L. Marvelous. Neurotic. Overwhelmed. Piqued. Questioning. Rapturous. Shocked. Terrified. Unbelieving. Victorious. Wondering. X. Y. Z.

My ABCs of pregnancy. Anyone have any suggestions for K, L, X, Y, or Z?

Fierce. Or something like it.

*SPOILER ALERT: If you don't want to know who won Project Runway you should stop reading now*

There is something empowering about watching someone's dream come true. It's inspiring. It makes the possibility of your own dreams a little more realistic. It shows you that there is a way to get things done. It puts a tangible spin on a very conceptual idea.

While it is uplifting and wonderful to see someone else's dream become their reality, it is also a crushing reminder that your dreams are still just that - dreams. Your reality is the same as it was yesterday, the same as it will be tomorrow. The same, that is, unless you change it. Unless you do something to shake up the mix.

Are you any closer to your dreams than you were yesterday? I can safely say that I am closer to some and farther away from others. The ones that I've moved away from aren't the ones I've decided to let fall by the wayside, they're the ones I want very much but have done nothing to attain.

Tonight I watched Christian, that little snivelling punk, win Project Runway. He's talented, very talented. He sees things that most people don't see and he works with fabric in a way that is transformational and artistic. His dream came true. And you know what? He didn't get to the top by being nice to everyone. Anyone who watched the show knows he's no fairy godmother. He got to the top by talent and audacity alone. I could learn a good lesson from him. I could. I should. Maybe I will.

Home again, home again...

Heading home tonight at 11:05. Nothing like a redeye flight to let you know you're living (gag). The trip has been more productive than I expected it to be and the meetings were far less stressful than I had anticipated. Things still aren't peachy keen on the job front, but at least now I feel it will be easier to stick it out until after the wedding and make a decision about whether to stay or go then. I have a little more peace of mind now and that makes a huge difference. Almost like my job got a little stay of execution.

In the immortal words of Tim Gunn...

I've decided to "make it work".

Apparently, the universal theme to this week was realization. It came in waves, some strong and big, others so small they sneaked up on me when I wasn't paying close attention. I realized:

• I can't stomach doing a meaningless job for much longer.
• In order to feel fulfilled I need to make a difference somehow, whether it's with my job or as a volunteer.
• Dogs rule, even the ones who don't like anyone very much.
• I make a mean eggplant parmigiana.
• Other people have much more faith in me than I do.
• I'm going to take a class this Winter/Spring that is going to give me much needed confidence in my technical sewing skill.

We went to dinner at our favorite little French place on Friday night for dinner and had a pretty heavy conversation about my blog entry theme that afternoon. Matthew is of the opinion that everyone who has ever made any difference to anyone has, at one point, gone through an existential crisis. He insists this is normal and that it's OK that I feel useless. In his eyes it's a critical step to greatness. He believes I can do anything I put my mind to. He believes this wholeheartedly, with no doubt, with unending confidence. I sure wish I did.

After dinner one of the owners of the bistro sat down with us for a glass of wine and we had a chat about plans and what it means to be hungry for more. She started out in TV network sales. She worked at a major network for 20 years and was then asked to "retire early" because the corporation could get a younger person to do her job for less money. She saw that as an opportunity to pursue something that moved her. She took her love of backyard gardening and decided on some classes in landscape design at the botanical garden. That turned into an apprenticeship with a very successful landscape architecture firm... 10 years later she was on the cover of Architectural Digest and she decided it was time to move on. Now she owns a fabulous resto with her husband. She looked me right in the eye and asked me what I wanted. After I answered her she said most people just know they don't want to do what they're doing... they're not too sure about the next step. She insisted I'm ahead of the curve when it comes to knowing where to go from here.

She & Matthew are on the same page on this one. It was great to have my partner in life tell me he has faith in me, but he's a little too close to the source to be fully trusted, you know? He loves me and he believes in whatever I do. But when our new friend told me to go for it, that made an impact. It gave credence to what Matthew had been telling me. Now I feel like I have the loose framework of a plan. I feel a little more solid and pointed in the right direction. Now I just need to muster up the fortitude to make it through the next 3 months until the wedding and I'll be able to get to step 2.

Random: what the hell is the deal with all the advertising campaigns recently featuring models who slouch? When did the "I'm worthless" look become cool? Shit, women. Stand up straight. Sheesh. And designers? Stop selling your clothes with ads that make young girls think they're fat and have too strict posture.

Hello? Is it just me here? Oh. Yeah. It is.

Working from home is weird. I'm working a lot, more than at the office. The difference is that I'm all by myself and I can run errands whenever I need to. Today I met my friend, Jon, for coffee in the middle of the afternoon. He's a freelancer. He tells me I'll get used to this. I tell him it would be vastly different if I were working for myself, which I'm clearly not doing. We'll see, I guess. We'll see how this goes.

On a lighter note, I had the best latte of my life today. Not with Jon, at a different coffee shop in the morning after I went to the bank (it's definitely nice to go to the bank when there's no one else there, but the coffee shops are still crowded at 10:30, so no difference there). Yes, I went to 2 coffee shops today. I know, I have a problem. Gorilla coffee - they roast only fair trade, organic beans every day in Brooklyn and the dude at the shop on 5th Ave made me the most beautiful, delicious latte ever this morning. He put the little leaf motif in the steamed milk even though it was covered with a "to go" lid. That's masterful work. Delish. Still thinking about it... *le sigh*

Answers

Here's the question of the day - how do you stop regretting something? I can't seem to push certain things out of my mind and they keep torturing me. I suppose a more apt way to say that is that I keep torturing myself. Always been a bit of a masochist. So, how do I stop it? I've not been successful thus far and I'm getting nervous that this torture is becoming a permanent thing.

The whole strategy of "fake it 'til you make it" has come in handy many a time for me, but for the last few months a pattern has been developing - I'll have a couple days where it seems to work for me. I'll honestly think that I can beat whatever it is that's getting the better of me and I see the bright side. But then, just a few days later I sink back down into defeat and I can't even muster the energy to fake it. It's wearing me down and taking its toll on every aspect of my life.

My relationship with MT is suffering because I can't get my head right. He's a bit afraid that the woman he fell in love with was either a well-crafted facade or she's run off somewhere to hide from the world. Honestly, sometimes I'm not sure which is the real answer - that's both terrifying and disappointing. My friends (caring and wonderful as they are) can only take so much of the grumpy-puss Melissa before they start to get frustrated and annoyed (I can't blame them - who wants to be constantly walking on eggshells around the same person day after day). I'm alienating myself from everyone I love, that's usually a bad sign.

I've got to either get out of my own head long enough to take a deep breath and look at what's outside or I've got to figure out how to make the jumble of my brain make sense. For now I think I'll figure out how to use my new sewing machine. I figure it'll distract me for a minute or so and it might even bring back my creative spark.

Smile like you mean it

See her? She's happy. She hadn't yet had to kill off a part of herself so the rest of her could thrive. I'm getting back to her. I'll find her again. I'm sure it'll be a long quest, but the goal is worth it.