I’m tired, but I’m unable to sleep.

I wish I could express my feelings without crying like a nut or raising my voice.

After all these years, I’ve realized I’m more like my dad than I’ve ever been.
I’ve learned a lot from my dad: how to yell, how to get mad, how to overreact, and how to say things I don’t mean.
Not only did I inherit my dad’s big, pouty bottom lip, I also share the same ability to make people not want to be around me.
I have little respect for my dad.
John had to go for a walk earlier and all I could do was pat Ashleigh’s back and cry.
Why can’t us women get a fucking break after nine months of pregnancy and NOT have a period for at least another nine months?
I’m cranky.
No, I’m downright bitchy today.
I am so annoyed and pained with the thought of sleeping on the pull-out couch tonight I’ve considered snuggling up on the recliner, and even pulling on my sweat pants and sleeping in our truck bed (it’s padded hardcore).
When I’m holding Ashleigh and her cries don’t stop after two seconds, John’s parents just look at me.
What can I do to become invisible?
I am not spoiling my baby.
I am not starving my baby.
Do not offer advice to me regarding my child unless I ASK for it.
Mother know’s best. Not grandmother, not sister, not stranger.
If one more stranger asks me if I’m breastfeeding I believe I’ll ask them if they douche.
Sometimes a mom just wants to hear “awww, how cute, how precious” instead of hearing about how your child once did the same thing.
Don’t tell me not to get frustrated. That frustrates me.
I’m afraid of driving the UHaul down to California.
It’s been over two years since I’ve driven a vehicle.
Why can’t I just walk around as two giant breasts?
Love is a wonderful thing when you know where to go with it.
Love sucks squirrel buttcracks when you’re lonely.
I know I’m too depressed when I don’t even want to snuggle with Ashleigh and watch ABC Soaps.
I feel like an old helpless woman when the joints start aching and the hands freeze up.
What woman doesn’t dream of being the bestest mom to the bestest child with the bestest husband making the bestest family in the whole world?
I wonder what would have happened if I’d given John the choice.
In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve become slightly angry and bitter lately.
I just want a day without tears.
I wish he’d believe me when I say he snores.
Don’t hate me or frown apon me because I want the best for my daughter.
I need a haircut.
Maybe even a pedicure, since I’m in Cali and it’s 75 degrees in February.
Those Progresso Soup commercials piss me off. Get off your high horse lady. Maybe I like my “just broth and noodles”.
Everyday I think of so many things I wish to tell all my readers but when I get online all I do is abscentmindedly flip from daily read to daily read without taking anything in.
Here are the thoughts of the last twenty minutes.
Yeah, just like that journal excercise in Mr. Barker’s ninth grade English class.