ROBOT SMALL

I went to a party last week with a bunch of ladies with babies, and there was a pregnant lady there. I was listening to the things they were telling her, and I was trying to hear it as she would hear it. It all just sounded terrifying. All the birthing stories and gore and pooping on the delivery table type stuff. You just don't know and you can't really comprehend it, and it all seems like a nightmare. I remember being pregnant and people telling me shit and me just thinking that they were crazy. But I guess I've always been that way. I need to figure shit out for myself... I remember before I had Ivo, and all the time I had to do all kinds of things, like write in my journal. But I recently went back and read some of the journal entries from that time, and it seems like everything I was writing was about how everything was wrong, or everybody was wrong, and everything needed changing. Nothing could just be what it is. Now, I don't have time to write in my journal very much anymore but I also don't have time for so much weird accusation of people and wringing hands and fretting about how stuff needs to be different. IT IS THE WAY IT IS. Is this a lesson from the world god laser beam that lives in the middle of the sun? Or is it just me having to wipe butts for a living? Either way, it's a nice rest from the hair ball that was my mind back then.