What have I done?
Why on earth did I think it was a good idea to abandon my child and go to San Francisco this weekend?
I don't even know this guy, this Steve. Not really. Not well enough to entrust the welfare of my darling beloved baby to his unsupervised care. I picked him up in a BAR for godsakes. Would you trust your very heart incarnate to a bar pickup?
And what will Steve do without me for three days? He'll pine. He'll grow fretful and moody.
They'll starve to death. They'll get eaten by bears and then the bears will starve to death and the cats will be disturbed by all the death and decay around them and express this disturbance by pissing on the bed again.
And I have to get my own rental car and drive it on unfamiliar interstates. I am meeting women I don't know for drinks and they will hate me and form an exclusive clique- a No Julias club with just 3 members.
Carrie will look at me in surprise and murmur, "But I specifically wrote on your invitation that we would be sorry you WOULD NOT be here to celebrate with us." And everyone at the shower will tell me one-by-one how wonderful it is that people still get pregnant the old-fashioned way without draining our country's valuable resources on costly, selfish infertility treatments.
Finally I will get lost down by the wharves and shanghaied by a whaler causing me to devote my life to the sea and incidentally miss my flight home.
Oh, what have I done?
-Thanks to all of you who wrote such nice things to me after my post yesterday. I intended to respond today but I have been busy confronting my wholly rational fears.