Baby

I cried at work today. Technically it wasn't the first time and it most certainly won't be the last, I'm well aware of what a baby I can be. But this episode was bad enough that neighboring coworkers came over to see what the hell was wrong with me and offer up their sympathetic eyes. Which only make me cry more by the way, once I see that someone feels sorry for me, there's no holding back the self-pity.

The morning started off terribly. That teething babe nearly ripped my heart out when he clutched on to me so tight I could barely make my way out of the door for work. I should have stayed home with him. It would have made him feel better and I would not have experienced the trauma of crying in my office. TRAUMA over something that doesn't mean anything, less than nothing, stupid.

If I had stayed home with my baby boy, that heated phone call would have likely taken place over a sweet cuddle session on the couch and HGTV softly playing in the background. My happy place helps keep my emotions in check. If I would have stayed, I would have at least felt like I wasn't failing in one aspect of my life. My role of doting mother would not have been sacrificed for the day. If I would have stayed home I wouldn't have had to experience a room full of construction workers looking at me and my red puffy eyes like they didn't know what to say. My ears would have just gotten the random heckling that penetrates them almost daily, and consequently tickles my soul…When the hell are you going to show up to our meetings? If I remove a tree, do I have to hug it first? I hope those are steel-toe ballet flats missy!

Instead, I cried at work. Like a big blubbery idiot who couldn't take the heat. Which is bull shit really. I CAN TOTALLY take the heat, dish it – take it what have you, BRING IT MF ON! I was just a little off this morning I guess. I feel like a disappointment, like I'm not representing my fellow females in the corporate world. My emotions got the better of me and I lost my shit. LOST IT.

So that's it - enough about that. On to a week of "I'M FINE, quit asking!" and there will be no more crying from this whiney baby about today. I will leave the crying to Arlo and his two front teeth.