Day 71 – Falling Down the Spiral of Pregnancy Hormone Insanity

I think it’s time I became one of those writers whose work is only good because the writer is totally insane. You know, like severe active alcoholism… unstable and unmedicated bipolar disorder… unrelenting depression… don’t most of the greatest writers in history fall into those categories? Well, I’m here to tell you- I qualify. My hormonal changes from pregnancy have brought me to a new low of crazy sad angry rageful weepy erratic emotionalness. My in-laws are in town too, and as we know… house guests do not a calm woman make.

I made a list last night of all the things I’m angry about in an attempt to find some peace from seeing where those outside faults are actually mine. The list was very, very long. Perhaps I should pick my favorite of all the resentments and write a script based on it. Is that how Ernest Hemingway and Virginia Woolf did it? I think not. Perhaps Virginia sat and wrote down all the things she wanted, but knew she couldn’t have, like the ability to throw a lovely party without the fear of people, and then wrote books (eh hem, Mrs. Dalloway) about that…

So if I’m going to follow what I’m totally presuming Virginia Woolf used as her method, then I will not write a script about how pissed off I am at this girl who wrote me a biting text message yesterday, but instead will write a script about a perfect wife and mother who does everything perfectly. Or I could write it about a gorgeous woman who not only maintained her figure after having two children, but actually looks hotter than she did in her twenties. Or I could write it about a woman who lives in the moment, who doesn’t fear financial ruin, who has a successful career she loves, and has the ability to enjoy life even when it’s far from perfect.

Day 7 – This is Why Pregnant Women Don’t Run for Office

I’m tired. I’m so very awfully uncomfortably and wearily tired. How am I supposed to take over the film industry with my enthralling dialogue and gripping story when I just want to nap, face down in a pillow five times a day? I’d drink more caffeine, but you’re supposed to limit your caffeine intake when you’re pregnant (along with limiting everything else, or cutting things out completely.)

My father-in-law asked me the other day how it is that Ernest Hemingway could have killed himself when he was such a good writer. I told him that Ernest Hemingway was an alcoholic. My father-in-law failed to find the connection. I told him I believed it was Hemingway’s misery that made him such a good writer. Well, I don’t drink anymore, so I can’t wallow in the beautiful depths of drunken writing. However, I am pregnant, so hopefully my fatigued, crampy, moody, (insert other gross things) misery could make me a better writer?

Maybe next time. Thanks anyway, Ernest.