Insanity

Quieting my brain

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Ever since reading Eat, Pray, Love I have been desperately working on "quieting my mind". Maybe it was because before reading that book I either never realized that your mind running at 5000MPH on a regular basis isn't "normal" or that it was possible to stop it.

I'm failing at part two.

My brain is the flipping energizer bunny.

Years ago, when David Faustino was still cute and Christina Applegate was still young, I remember watching this episode of Married...with children where Kelly was learning so much about some things that she forgot BASIC things, like her name.  I don't remember the particulars of the show, but at one point they were saying that Kelly's brain is "like a pitcher of water, when you fill it up and up, some of it is bound to overflow.."

Thats how I feel these days. My mind is overflowing with worries about BPA, rice rationing in the US, inflated gas prices, kids, working, mastitis (OMG THE PAIN), nursing, solid foods, nursing necklaces, Yo Gabba Gabba (THERES A PARTY IN MY TUMMY. SO YUMMY! SO YUMMY!), birthdays, mother's day, points in food, food, nutrition, beach weather, hot, cold, house, dog, Outlook, clients, IM, excel, Twitter, cameras, pictures, who the hell is walking up to my house... huh? What was I talking about? Oh, hi.. how are you?

She works hard for the money

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I technically "went back to work" this week. I say "technically" and use the handy dandy "" because I'm still working from home, and not really full-time, but about 100 hours a month. Which is nice. VERY nice. I picked up a new agency to freelance for plus my old friends came back for more. So, after my "maternity leave" and months of desperately trying to figure out what the hell I want to do with my life, I'm revving up and consulting again.

And let me tell you how nice it feels to use my brain to figure out something other than what to make for dinner.

So Friday I actually had to go to an all day meeting and planning session for a new account. The meeting was actually a hotel down by the airport and I knew that I was going to be gone the majority of the day. Barely thinking straight, the night before it donged on me that I should probably pack up my pump to bring.

When I get to the hotel in the morning, I explain my "situation" to a woman at the front desk and ask if they happened to have a place where I could go and pump. Maybe a private bathroom I could use? Of course they didn't, but she suggested that I use the bathroom on the first floor because "No one ever really goes in there".

3 hours later I excuse myself from the meeting and head down to the first floor. When I walk in I notice that the only electrical outlets are right by the sink in the middle of the room. They do have a little seating area, but no outlets on that side of the room. I walk back outside and go into the sales and catering office and ask again if there is someplace private I may go. Once again I'm told that "No one ever goes into the bathroom across the hall." Whatever. Fine. I'll make due.

Anticipating that I may not have my own private lactation station, I brought along my "hooter hider". Realizing at this point that any milk leakage onto my pretty lavender silk shirt would be quite embarrassing, I decided to take off my shirt (I had a tank top on underneath) and fold it nicely on the counter. I start to pump and within the first 5 minutes had 3 different people walk in.

Hurrying the process. I'm finishing up and drop one of the pumps on the floor. As I bend down to pick it up, I knock my shirt off onto the floor, and onto a big glob of liquid soap, which, you know it, was right over the boob area of my shirt.

Swweeett.

The things we do for love...