Sometimes I feel really weird and left out that I missed the boat on the whole being a mother thing. It seems like every fricking woman in the world wants to have a baby. (Obviously I know that's not true, it just feels like it sometimes.) I think about people spending however many thousands of dollars to have a baby despite fertility issues, and I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me? Am I broken for not wanting a baby? Did that particular womanly gene get left out of my makeup? I dunno.

And then sometimes I wonder if maybe it's true, as people are so fond of telling me, that if I had my own kids I would feel differently about them. Maybe I really would find it to be the most fulfilling thing ever. But I feel so very averse to it that it's not a risk I'm willing to take. So maybe I am missing out and I'll never know.

But given all possible outcomes, I am content to continue with my baby-hating, motherless existence forever. I just feel weird about how content I am with it, if that makes sense.

Lots of random things going on in my mind lately, dunno if I have any coherent thoughts about it though.

Got stopped at work the other night by some enlisted guy I didn't know. He pulled me aside and asked me, very earnestly, if he could ask me something. "I don't want you to think I'm trying to flirt with you or anything, but I have to ask why you aren't a model." Me, awkward laugh. Him, "I saw you at power school and I told myself if I ever had a chance to ask you I would." Me, more awkward laughter. "Um, thank you?" Extricate myself and continue on to the bathroom where I had been heading.

I just don't get it. I do not understand how it affects that guy's life what I have chosen to do with mine. I get this from people a lot, and on the one hand, I know they mean well. And it is flattering, even if I think that people think that because I'm tall and not fat than because I'm pretty. So I feel bad feeling annoyed by it. But on the other hand, I can't help but think, what, you think that my looks are all I have to offer the world? Is it that surprising to you that I have chosen, at least for the time being, a mentally challenging career? WTF? Not to mention it's extremely awkward. Like how am I supposed to respond to that?! Usually I just crack a joke about liking ice cream too much or something, but I dunno. It just is one of those things I'd rather not deal with, but on the whole I suppose I'd rather deal with that than having people think I'm too ugly to work with them, which I have sadly heard about some of my female colleagues more than I'd like.

Work is going really well. Passed my final watch board on Wednesday and took my final exam last Thursday, which means now I just have a few checkouts to finish up and my final oral board is scheduled for the 24th. That will probably get changed (it always does), but for now I am planning for that. It will be good to be qualified and have some time to not worry about anything except enjoying my last few weeks being on the same coast as my boyfriend.

I started doing P90X and so far am pretty pleased with my progress. I am getting closer to being able to do a pull-up (a goal that has eluded me for 24 years)! I am more interested in just getting stronger than anything in the looks department, but J says that I am also looking better already. ("You used to have a 6-pack, and now you have like an 8-pack!" Note that I have neither, I definitely have always had a little bit of a tummy and it's still there. He either really doesn't notice it or pretends not to, which I appreciate.)

In a recent episode of Writing Excuses, a podcast I listen to, they were sarcastically recommending ways for writers to avoid writing. I had to laugh when they said "Take George R.R. Martin. Here's an author who has gotten famous by not giving fans what they want. And you're not as good as George R.R. Martin, so you should probably only publish 1 paragraph and then make everyone wait a year for paragraph 2." Hehe.

Out of the blue got this message from A today: Alright, as much as it pains me to admit it, you were completely right about A Song of Ice and Fire, and I should've gotten on the bandwagon way sooner...

Ha ha! I win!

Turns out he watched the first HBO season and now is stoked for season 2 and has ordered the books to read. And to think of all those times he teased me about it!

Work is going to be absolutely insane this week. I have 10 watches, including 3 days in a row of backers (back-to-back watches). On the one hand, I'm kind of dreading it. Trying to get all those pre-watches done, plus trying to study anything beforehand so I don't totally mess up, plus trying to ignore the fact that I am going to sleep at sunrise and working through the night. Yuck.

But on the other hand, by the end of this shift week I will be that much closer to being done. A lot closer. And that's good. Plus the days actually pass faster when I have more going on, as tiring and stressful as it can be.

So for now trying to fight off the pre-work-week blues (seriously, I think Sunday night, or its equivalent on my weird schedule, is just the absolute nadir of my week) and focus on the positives!

I often daydream about having my own bakery. Not a cupcakery--there is such a wide wide world of delicious baking out there, how do people confine themselves to solely cupcakes of all things? No, Nora's will encompass so much more.

BUT I will probably also have cupcakes. They are delicious. And I watch Food Network a lot, so I've seen Cupcake Wars a lot. And it has changed my vision.

Previously I used to imagine a pink-and-brown theme for Nora's. These are colors that I love and work well together (and look great on me!). But holy crap, every single cupcakery has frilly pink shit everywhere. Screw that noise. Not sure what the color scheme of fictional Nora's is going to shift to, but it ain't gonna be just another one of these craptastic shops set up by a trophy wife looking for a hobby!

(Even though I would only ever open Nora's in the unlikely event that I become a trophy wife...)

After two and a half weeks on a normal person's schedule, it's back to the later shifts for the next 2.5. It's really not so bad in some ways. I actually get a lot more sleep, because I tend to go to bed as soon as I get home for work, so I wake up without an alarm clock and take my free time before I go to work. (I have to go to work at 1500 today, for example.) What does suck is that it severely limits any sort of interaction with non-shift people--ie J. Swings is the worse. I am at work by the time he is out of class, he is in bed by the time I am out of work, and by the time I am awake he is at class. And since neither of us are allowed cell phones at class/work, we have basically no contact. No fun. At least on mids I am sleeping while he's at work and he's at class while I'm sleeping, so there is still a nice chunk of overlap in the evenings.

But it's only 7 days, and we can sometimes manage a lunch.

So I don't usually like to get into political debate, and I certainly do not find facebook a good platform for it. I do sometimes share a link or a thought I am having, but not in order to spark debate, more just for sharing with those agree. I usually just ignore when others share messages with which I do not agree, and I have no problem with them doing that to me. Of course, my mother has decided she doesn't want to sit idly by. Today I get: I hate that kind of talk radio, but he did not call Sandra F. a slut. I heard a long clip on the news and he was making an analogy. Yes, he is offensive, but not quite so personally offensive to Ms. Fluke as everyone is saying. It is a bit of a pc over-reaction. Secondly, I do not want to pay for anyone's abortions or birth control. If it iIS a personal choice, it should remain a personal expense. This was in response to a Slate link deconstructing how terrible Rush's nonapology apology was.

I thought about just letting it slide, but I just couldn't. I made my reply as brief as possible and resisted the temptation to rub in her face the fact that while she doesn't pay for Sandra Fluke's BC, she DOES pay for mine (okay, so technically she only pays taxes as an ancillary to my father cause she doesn't work) and I've been using that to have slutty slutty sex for the past 6 years. But I think my mom is about to go onto my "limited profile." I think she'll be the first, but honestly, life is too short to put up with her bullshit worldview.

Today I went to go pick up some ink for my printer. Head over to OfficeMax, walk in go to the ink section. Look around for the little booklet which lists which ink to get. As I'm walking to it, salesman asks "Can I help you with anything?" Me: "No thanks." I open to the book to look for my printer number. Salesman: "Are you sure? Do you know what cartridge you need? Looks like you need help." Me: "Nope, just wanted to check the number!" So unnerved by the salesman standing right behind me that I just glanced down quickly and got the number. Grabbed the ink and walked away.

Of course go to put it in my printer when I got home and turns out I got the ink for the 400 series version of my printer, not the 300.

If a customer tells you she doesn't want help then SHE DOESN'T FUCKING WANT YOUR HELP. Seriously, if I need help, I will ask you for it. I understand you have to offer once, but if I say no, just fucking trust that I am a competent human being who can--clearly--actually function better without your "assistance" over my shoulder.

And of course I opened the package before I realized this so I can't return the damn thing. $35 down the drain.

I stress myself out too much. I always have. I wish I knew how to stop that. It's totally uncalled for and I think it is the biggest single detractor from my quality of life. Sigh.

One of the guys on my crew makes a point of telling me every couple days that the only reason I am ahead of the rest of them is because I'm a girl.

Oh yes, dude, I just flash a smile at the staff and they sign all my stuff! Or, you know, I work my butt off while I'm there, and I'm probably a lot smarter than you given the evidence. And if anything, I think being friendly is more in my favor than the fact that, somewhere under these, I have breasts.

Sigh. I shouldn't let it get to me, but sometimes I do.