Monday, October 15, 2007

Off to work tomorrow

...where I shall listen to people talk about their spouses, their children, and the calorie content of food.

A young woman whom I actually like has her office two floors below. She just came back from maternity leave, and had dropped something at my cubicle to sign.

"Now you can just call me and you won't have to feel guilty about making a pregnant woman come up two flights!"

I smiled an informed her shocked self that the only way I'd feel sorry for a pregnant woman were if I had raped her at gunpoint and inseminated her. Now, I will always give my seat up to a pregnant woman on a bus, and yes, I will always be helpful because that's my nature, but if you want to have children, then the pregnancy is often part of it, and anything we think worth having usually takes some work and sacrifice. So I don't know why I'm suddenly supposed to feel sorry for pregnant women, considering that I have it shoved down my throat every day in my very fertile office how wonderful motherhood is, and you'd think there would be something else to talk about like oh, GLOBAL WARMING or THE UPCOMING ELECTION, but that's just weird selfish me.

Yeah, the pain meds are starting to wear off.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

I think Indrew has something to say about fertile offices.

JC said...

Really? Don't tell me he organizes the baby showers. I purposely schedule doctors' appointments when they have them, to give myself an out. Because I'd rather have a pap smear -- the equivalent of someone taking a bottle brush to my cervix -- than sit through that hell.

Anonymous said...

I think at this point, Indrew is the only one not pregnant in his office.

Hmmmmmmmmmm.

JC said...

Is there a trip to Africa in your near future, Brangelina?

Andrew Nolan said...

One baby shower held in the office yesterday. Presents, little mini cakes, baby toys ... ohhh!!!

JC said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
JC said...

The next time they hold a baby shower in my office I'm going to schedule a sex-toy party in the main conference room. Since we no longer have nay boundaries, why not. I'll have muscular men in thongs serving hors d'oeuvres.