Today it is about 34 degrees in Boston and raining non-stop. I am cold, soaked through to the bone and generally feeling like a pile of dog shite.
Besides the weather and the fact that spring seems nowhere near, I am having a rotten time career-wise. I know as far as freelancing goes, I did have a streak of beginner's luck, but lately it has been such a struggle to get editors to even return my emails or calls. This is nothing new in the world of freelance writing, but it is still so frustrating. I am really counting on April's writing conference to turn things around for me. But I can't help feeling a bit down about it.
And then there is my daughter... sometimes Sam can be so difficult, it is easier not to leave the house. I planned a trip to the Science Museum with our friends, which involved fifty-two pounds of gear as always--stroller, car seat, rain cover, massive diaper bag. I am 21 weeks pregnant, soaking wet and carrying a 20-pound toddler who would rather nap than go to the museum through the pouring rain.
Once at the museum, all Sam wants to do is climb the stairs (a wide, two step platform), which I let her do while I was right behind her. Predictably, she fell and started bleeding from the mouth--or more accurately, the tooth. We are not sure if it is loose yet because she would not let me feel, but it still scared me. A lot.
We finally got home and I decided to move the car to a parking spot closer to the house while she napped. Not surprisingly, I hit our neighbor's car. Luckily, I did more damage to our own (new) car than to his, but it still is the worst feeling in the world to hear that crunch.
Add to all this a big deadline tomorrow and exhaustion bordering on delusion and we have one super unhappy, cranky pants pregger. My mama actually never said there would be days like this, so when there are, they are quite the surprise.
Now I will go pull the covers over my head and hope tomorrow is better. It usually is, after all.