The worst day since yesterday.

I'm just going to say this from the get go: Anyone who has decided that my feelings about my sister's baby makes me a horrible person who deserves every shriveled little infertile egg I get, awesome. You are allowed to feel that way. You are also allowed to not read something that makes you all butthurt.

Now, for the eventful day. I received a text at 5:30 am saying "Looks like I'm off to have a baby!:)" to which I say to myself, "Looks I'm off to have a bowl of Prozac!:)" To her I say good luck and such, cause I'm not a completely heartless person.

"But wait!" says you, "I mean, that kind of sucks, but it's not the worst thing in the world, right?" I suppose not, but the oh so tender irony is this, we were scheduled to attend an adoption orientation meeting today with our local agency. It's like someone has just told me they are going and eating a giant slice of delicious cake, while I will be going to a cooking class that will teach me about how 5 or so years from now, if all goes well, I too may be able to have a piece of my own. Weird analogy, I know, but I am exhausted. Here's why...

Two blocks from the office, my car takes a lesson from my ovaries and shuts the hell down (ovaries, however do not take a reciprocal lesson in shutting the hell up). Luckily, after waiting for about 5 minutes in the middle of the road, someone decides to help me push the red demon into a metered parking stall. Luckily, The Boy is driving separately and can pick me up.

I scrounge around for change to feed the meter, and between the two of us, we get 1 hour and 33 minutes. The orientation is 1 1/2 hours. It was fine, but I was so disconnected that I don't think anything really made its way into my cluttered mind.

We leave the meeting early and miss out on another couples hypothetical questions that are starting to sound like some calculus exam I failed (If birthmom 1 is on a train in Philadelphia, and the adoptive couple are both allergic to tomatoes, exactly how long until the girl sitting next to me goes crazy and smacks us all silly?). I make it back to the car with 3 minutes left. Well done me!

After putting in 2 quarts of oil and jumping the car, we have reached the limits of our knowledge and still I am stuck about 15 miles from home, in a metered spot, with much to get done at home. I call my dad, who happens to be a pretty good mechanic and the conversation goes a little something like this:

-Hi dad, my car is dead, any chance you could come take a look at it?
-Oh hi! I'm just at the hospital. Did you hear that your sister is having her baby?
-Yeah, a few times now.
-You should come say hi!
-Uh...no thanks. Um...how long do you think you're going to be there?
-Well she's fully dilated. Do you want me to come look now?
-No, you can stay there. I'm just kind of stuck and don't have money to pay the meter and I have no idea what's wrong with my car. You can just come when you're done there.
-*Sigh*...no, I'll come.

I promise, I told him to stay several times, but he was kind enough to come help. Long boring car story short, 2 1/2 hours later it looks like it's probably the fuel filter. We manage to tow the car to the parking lot of his office by 4:50. Oh, during the car fiasco I get a text that is a picture of the kid. How much do I hate this? 47 hate units.

Did I mention that I hadn't eaten anything since about 8 am? The Boy picks me up at quarter after 5 after my dad volunteered to drive me to the hospital to see the kid. I flat out told him I was not going to visit either of them in the hospital. He still doesn't get it.

Which brings us to now. I took my very disheveled self to the dog park with The Boy and my two awesome doggies and had a good time. I came home and made some tasty dinner, and now I am off to soak in a hot tub until this migraine decides to die a terrible death. Happy birthday L, sorry your party sucks.

So lets hear it. How horrible am I to not be all butterfly rainbow magic sparkles about the wonder that is new life?