My new year is not off to the greatest start and spending a few hours at the library this morning was a grim reminder of that. I started in the kids section and had fun picking out some new reads for the monkeys (WWII stuff for Noah and iceskating cats for Camille), but then eventually worked my way back into the corner of the adult non-fiction section. I tenderly poked and prodded my way along the shelf until I hit the hysterectomy/ovarian cancer/endometriosis section also known as the scary/depressing/lady parts section. After selecting a few books that looked they might be helpful, I plunked down on one of those little black rolling stools that only seem to be found in public libraries and started to read things that I never really wanted to read.
However, I kept getting distracted by all of the other books that dominated that same section of shelving, all of those pregnancy books with adorable baby toes and pretty pink covers. It suddenly felt as if the Dewey Decimal system was taunting me with its logical placement of female issues. Why couldn't the scary books be sandwiched between the gardening books and humor? Ever since my life threatening pregnancy with Noah ten years ago, I have never once wanted to re-experience pregnancy and yet here I was in the middle of a public library feeling so sad. Damn Dewey.
I am not sure how much I will be writing about what's been happening and what will be happening, but needless to say this is not how I wanted to start 2013.