Warning: More self-pity.

After an uneventful morning & all the attorneys in my practice group (in my office) on vacation, I left work early to pick up Monkey at daycare (after telling my secretary to contact me if anyone dropped by my office and that I'd be checking my Blackberry). Blissful, happy & unfortunately oblivious, was I.

At the daycare: I roll in and see a look of uneasy "almost-panic" on the worker's faces. "She's in her crib napping," Jenna informs me. I walk over to the crib and there is my dear daughter sleeping ON HER STOMACH with a BLANKET.

2 HUGE no-nos in my book. I know many advocates of stomach sleeping and most of my friends w kids allow their children to have blankets. That's fine. But come on, I'm open about my anxiety issues. As I type this I feel like I'm going to throw up. I have written countless emails to them about no blankets. And stomach sleeping?? FOR REAL? They know I'm averse to this as well. The director (whom I love and had a mini crush on, remember? (The crush is gone, btw.)) was like, "It was so cold in here, I put the blanket on her. We were watching her the whole time, blah blah blah." I was super nice about it because while ultimately I am probably a confrontational person, I am not confrontational at first. I am polite, think about it, mull over it, then confront. Needless to say. This ruined my f*cking day.

But how did I console myself? With the knowledge of a long weekend. I thought, "Well, I will use these next 4 days with my baby to work on her tummy time so that when they DO place her on her stomach to sleep against my wishes, she'll be prepared for it and not suffocate and die."

Then I received the dreaded email. I won't bore you with the really f*cking boring details that comprise my job, but it basically asked me if I will help draft a bunch of sh*t that needs to be done by WEDNESDAY. Know what this means? Bye-bye baby's first 4th of July and fireworks w my grandma. Bye bye teaching her how to use neck strength. Tomorrow I'm basically sending her to the guillotine to suffocate to death so I can draft some stupid merger agreement for 2 companies that nobody gives a sh*t about. It's hilarious bc they're like, 'How would you feel about assisting us with a fascinating merger?'

Oh, hold on. Did you just use the word "fascinating" and "merger" in the same sentence? HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHA

"Why, sure, I would love to assist you. Please feel free to contact me at your convenience."

WOE IS ME. I'm literally tearing up with self-pity (and guilt bc apparently I send my daughter every day to risk her life during nap time).

But, hey! At least I have a job in this sh*tty economy and get paid well. Life is such a b*tch.