That's right, you heard me. Terrible. Awful. Horrible.
You see, d.w. started working this week, while I have been sitting at home finishing a thesis that should have been finished months ago. Not only has she started working, she is working as a field assistant for a grad student over in Entomology. My poor pregnant wife is spending 8 (or so) hours a day walking miles upon miles, hunched over in the prairie looking for insects. For eight bucks an hour.
Meanwhile, I'm spending my days on the couch, feet propped up with a computer in my lap. If I feel like wandering over to a cafe for a chai while I peck away at the laptop, I can do just that. Sleep in 'til 10? No problem.
And then there's d.w., whose pelvic and vertebral joints are now the consistency of jello and hurting like a sonofabitch, squatting, hunching, walking, and kneeling over an over and over every day. Trying to satiate the zygote's (thankfully post-morning sickness!) appetite with some potato chips and a granola bar, because it seems good lunch-packing is just not one of my innate talents.
But at least I make her lunch, right? Oh yeah, that's just because I'm not keeping up with my kitchen-cleaning part of the bargain. Right.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go wallow in my own self-loathing.
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