Lately I've been complaining a lot.
About how so-and-so slighted me and I will never forgive her.
About how fat I am and how I wish I could just fit into my regular clothes again.
About how Brown-Eyed Boy won't let me sleep in.
About the annoying cat who meows outside my door, and the annoying inside cat who throws up on my floor.
About a certain co-worker who tries to dump all his work on me.
About how it's too cold, too hot, too early, too late.
About how I am a crazy, unstable, air-headed, swollen, hormone-ridden pregnant woman.
About how no one loves me and no one appreciates me.
And then, this morning, as I was walking with a co-worker to what I thought was another dull meeting, he threw open the conference room door and I was greeted by pink streamers and table cloths and my family and co-workers shouting "surprise!"
They threw me a surprise baby shower. I almost cried.
Now I feel ashamed for all the complaining I've done. I don't have it badly. Not even close.
But when all I think about and care about is myself, it's easy to feel that way.
Thank you to my awesome sisters and everyone who helped out with the party. Thank you for making me feel loved. But also for reminding me that there are other people in this world besides me.
And I want them to feel loved, too.
The Brown-Eyed Girl