I’m not complaining. Really I’m not. Okay just a little. It is 5:30 in the morning and already the world feels like a sauna. I have a big week at work and my efforts to get a good sleep last night fell flat as my daughter woke up with a stomach ache, my husband came home at the same time and I couldn’t get back to sleep. I spent my Sunday driving in order to pick up my daughter and her friends from Brownie camp (maybe next year, they could get a bus that is big enough for all the kids). I am irritated with just about everybody around me and mainly just want to tell people to go away. To leave me alone.
Just like a hormonal thirteen year old now that I think about it. Great.
But since I started, I think I am going to continue this rant.
Why is it that even with a good paying job, I can’t seem to make ends meet?
Why is it that men are more able to be in control of their time, with less of a feeling of obligation than women? Is it the womb thing? The whole, I carried you for nine months and so I must stick around to make sure my investment remains sound primal instinct thing? (I am sure you would love an explanation of this one, but forget it. It’s not coming. )
Why is it that even though my brain tells me to stop eating, my mouth continues to do so? Is there some disconnect that I should be worried about? Perhaps there is a minor surgery or a pill I could take?
And finally why is getting through the day so damn hard sometimes?
Why?
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Lina Branter 
I think you’re onto something with that womb thing – though perhaps more along the lines (when speaking of children and time obligations) of primary care giver – like my friend with her adopted child, or one of my cousins who raised 2 kids as a single dad. Now that his kids are in his 20s, his time is his own again and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Though he did just buy a monster harley… vroom! vroom!Do you still eat when it’s hot out? I find the heat helps nicely with encouraging a little bit of unconscious anorexia.