i have always lived my life in a perpetual state of self-loathing. just, steady hating myself for consistently being the fucking worst. sometimes it's because i've pulled up to the mcdonald's drive-thru window pretending to be on the phone taking orders for other people but secretly planning to eat three whole meals in my car. sometimes it's because i wasted so many years of my life obsessing over ain't shit dudes. and very often it's because i slept in a full face of makeup once again and my pillowcase looks like a jackson pollock canvas.

but most recently, it's because i've become that person. your acquaintance from bygone high school or college years who is constantly posting photos of her stupid baby.

while i was still lugging james around like a fanny pack, i swore i'd never be this person. i will confine the majority of james’s photos to tinybeans, i thought loftily. maybe upload a facebook picture once in a while. he might not even be that cute.

but of course i think my baby is cute. that's some sort of biological destiny that even my cynicism and awfulness couldn't fuck up. you could literally tell me that objectively, my child looks like john wayne gacy- but i would still be swooning over his chubby little cheeks. there is some neural wiring here that cannot be undone.

so i take and post photos of him. everywhere, nonstop, hating myself for being so basic all the while. ugh stop it you are OUT OF CONTROL, go back to posting memes or talking about cheetos or amassing your collection of simpsons screencaps. lose the damn baby weight and get back to posting age-inappropriate thotty selfies. write a review of a book to convince people that you know how to read something other than a babycenter.com thread about cradle cap. WHY ARE YOU STILL POSTING BABY PHOTOS.

but he's got a cool smile in this one!