I decided today that at this point in my life, if I was to have an axiety attack, it would most definitely be while I was donating plasma. I can get through the first four or five cycles absolutely fine, but then I start to get ancy and for the next few cycles I can't focus on anything except watching the tubes and bag fill up and everything. And at about the last round or when they switch me over to the saline, I have to make a concious effort to stay composed. My mind starts jumping all over the place and I feel like I'm not going to be able to sit still any longer and I become hypersensitive to the needle. It's fucking crazy and it makes me really worried that sometime I'm going to go in there on a bad day and I won't be able to keep it together and I'll just go ape shit. And that would seriously make me look like an ass, wouldn't it?

Aside from restraining a spaz attack at plasma, I was pretty productive today. I had the day off and I wanted to really take advantage of it, because once Thursday comes, I don't anticipate having a full day off (meaning no work and no school) until the semester ends. I think my one saving grace this semester will be that they don't like to schedule me to work on Friday's since I count all the money for the day on Saturday morning. And then on Friday's I only have one class that isn't until 2:00 so it will probably become my catch-up day. Of course, the one class that I have that day is my natural resources class and I don't expect to become too invested in it, so I probably will have a few full days off during the semester. Regardless, I ended up washing my dishes, cleaning my apartment (fucking disgusting), baked brownies, COOKED myself breakfast and lunch/dinner, and went running, of all things. That's right, kids-- I was neat, domestic and active. I'm not sure who's been inhabiting my body for the last 12 hours either.

I also went to pick up my books today which in itself was unexciting. Although I did see Kyle leaving the UC, but he seemed to be focusing so intently on what his friend was saying that his gaze was trained squarely on the stretch of concrete in front of him that he didn't see me. I also saw David being paraded around in a herd of freshmen during an orientation, which was sadistically satisfying since I have resented his overinflated ego since I've known him. But that's not the point. The point is that when I took my books home, the only one that I bothered to look through at all was my health book. (Actually, that's not true. I opened up my literary studies book, saw the poems diagramed with the syllables of the words broken up and littered with accents and whatnot and I threw it on my bed in disgust.) But the first page that I opened up to in my health book was titled "Characteristics of Childless Women" and read:

"As a group, women who remain childless are typically firstborn or only children, untraditional, better educated, more cosmopolitan, less religious, and more likely to have a profession than mothers. They also tend to gravitate toward independent professions in which they can have more control of their working hours and conditions."

Um, I think I know someone like this.

I read this, of course, right after deciding that I absolutely won't become a mother until I am at least 40, that being the golden age because by then I hope to have pretty firmly established myself in my profession, purchased my own home and achieved not only financial stability, but ideally, comfort. Be sure to take note of the fact that parenthood, for me, is not at all contingent on relationship status. And becoming a mother for me means only one child. No more.

But the part that really kind of got under my skin was this:

"Contrary to popular belief, nonmothers are not cold or selfish. They can be deeply committed, nurturing, and generous, but on their own terms. Many prefer not to give up control of their lives to the unpredictability of child rearing. They also recognize that they can't put their own goals aside for a prolonged period of time without fostering resentment and anger. Nonmothers are so completely committed to whatever they undertake that they know they couldn't live up to their own standards of parenting and don't want to impose similar unrealistic expectations on a child. For these women, the satisfaction of child rearing would not offset the costs."

Once again-- sounds a lot like me and who I'm going to end up being in ten years. And the whole thing made me wonder if whether in twenty years when I finally reach that "golden age" if I am even going to want to be a mom. It scares me a little to think that I might end up classified as an "old maid" just because it's so far from who I have always pictured myself to be. In a matter of years, I have gone from wanting a huge family to questioning both whether I am capable of feeling satisfied in a marriage-like long-term relationship and whether I am capable of making the sacrifices necessary to raise a child. I think what really makes the prospect of it all frightening is that it is unchartered territory for me, not only having been raised in a big family, but also having been spoon-fed a family-centric philosophy all my life. And the fact that I am so fiercely independent and that I not only desire, but need my own space and to determine my own routine-- that I simply need to be in control of as much of my life as possible-- makes me feel incredibly selfish, and subsequently, bad person. And I also fear that I'm just placing myself on a one-way street to eternal unhappiness.

I hate not feeling normal.

Bridget and I were talking one time about our greatest fears. Hers was ending up alone. Mine was settling for mediocrity. That should have been indication enough of the path that I was on, but it took me until now, reading through my fucking health book to realize it. Guess it's prime time to get over my negative ideas about the single, work-aholic lifestyle.

Anyway. On a more positive note, I also took the comprehensive health quiz in the front of the book and was more than pleased to find that I scored in the "Good job!" range, which is pretty much summed up by saying, "You're clearly not a health nut but you're not on the road to early death either." When I was taking the quiz (which had about 5000 fucking questions) I was confident that I was going to land in the "Caution!" category. But I wasn't even on the cusp. I ended up with a nice middle-range "Good job!" score. My lowest scores were of course in "Fitness" and "Nutrition and Weight Management" but like I didn't see that coming. However, I balanced those two categories out with my stellar scores in the "Alcohol, Tobacco and other Drug Use" and "Sexual Health" sections. Because clearly it's okay to be lazy so long as you're a goddamn prude.

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