Postpartum Depression

Giving birth is hard.

IC and I just reached a major milestone for our business.

The last few days in particular have been brutal. But we did it, more or less.

We were too exhausted to be in a celebratory mood. However, we did go to the corner bodega for smokes and a cheap bottle of wine. We turned to each other in the harsh light of the bodega, and if we had had the energy for it, we would have gasped and stepped back. Yes, we looked like we had gone through a war.

Back at my apartment, we toasted each other tiredly and drank and smoked while tracking open rates and click-throughs and fun stuff like that.

IC claimed that this was harder than actually giving birth for real. I must remember to tell N that, once he is old enough for a conversation.

But my terrifying thought? We'll have to do this over and over again, once every two weeks. Note to self, must hire more people. IC and started this entire venture with the goal of running our business while sitting in neighboring pedicure chairs. And we're both entirely irritated that we're not there yet.

So I'm irritated, exhausted, hungry, slightly drunk, and.... and at least two other negative adjectives but I can't get my brain to work at the moment.

But it's done.

Off now to finish the wine.