Across the Universe...

Jeremy called me up this morning. He asked me the same thing he asks me everyday: "So...you going to get out at all??"

To a hermit, these words are foreign and a tad bit frightening.

"No," I usually reply in a surly tone.

But, for some stupid reason, the last couple of times Jeremy has said this to me, I have felt compelled to gussy myself up and go to the store, just so I can say that "I got out today."

There are some definite drawbacks to going shopping by myself, the main one being that I see women with 4+ children and I start to get panic attacks because that's going to be me soon. The look on each of those mothers' faces reminds me of what a sun about to super nova looks like: On the verge of destruction, but satisfied that the satellites orbiting it will soon be obliterated, followed by total silence...

After trying to keep myself composed and not eat my children at the three stores we went to, I answered the phone. It was Jeremy (of course, I knew it was since I have "These Dreams" by Heart as his ringtone. I was standing at a store the other day when it went off, and there were quite a few people near me, and I suddenly felt really shy about it, and felt the need to answer as quickly as possible, and then whisper my conversation, and even mumbled my usually vibrant "I love you." I don't know why I should should feel that way...I mean, doesn't EVERYBODY assign a cheesy 80s song to their spouse and shout exuberant I LOVE YOUS when they say goodbye??).

"Oh, are you OUT!?" was his excited greeting.

"Yes..." I growled.

"How are the children?"

"Rotten."

"Oh..."

"Could you do me a favor and NOT ever ask me if I am going to go out when you call me in the morning? I feel guilty, like I am supposed to be superwoman or something, and I'm starting to get really mad."

"Uh..yeah."

"Thank you."

I know that attitude is 90% choice, but sometimes I feel like I am floating in space watching my self-control fly off into the sunset at Warp Factor 9.

Beam me up, Scotty!