What Did I Do?

I had a minor freak out last night. I put Goober to bed because her mom was out drinking. It hit me, as I was tucking her in with her millions of stuffed animals-(and 8 new WebKinz, but that's another store)-that I only had 4 more months with her. My heart sank, my eyes welled up with tears, and I quickly finished arranging her stuffed animals around her and then went downstairs....and cried. As the tears slowly creeped down my face I started to panic. The thought process went something like this:

"Atlanta??? Really??? What was I thinking??? Flight is booked, they have made plans to pick me up from the airport, they like me, I have to make a good impression. Uh-oh, what do I wear? How do I great them? Will I get lost in the airport? What if I miss a connecting flight? Oh crap oh crap oh crap....Atlanta????? What if the baby is colicky? What if I'm miserable? What if I love it and get fired??? What if these people are freaks??? What do I do then? What What What. What if mom and dad are upset? What if they hate me? It's only 2 days, but still...if they hate me...what then? 2 days of being hated????? What if I hate them? What if I'm not good enough for them? What if they don't like overweight people? What if they think i'm too young, too short, too fat? What if they think I'm just weird????"

And the self-sabotage continues. Will keep you updated