As usual, Andy Dwyer sums up my inner monologue. Also, I am old and disconnected. I am OK with this.

I can get my sorry ass to the gym three times a week. I can load the plates onto my bar, and I can squat all by myself like a big girl.

Well, I don't know about enabled, but I took a couple of college courses from a guy who had written material for Cosby back in the early 70s. When it looked like I might try my hand at making it as a comedy writer, my professor only had one word of advice: stay the fuck away from Cosby. This was 1999.

Husband's cat is my cat's sister. My cat is the sweetest, most loving little fuzzy girl you have met. His cat is an indolent planetoid. Last week, she allowed me to pat her while she lolled in a sunbeam, but the instant her sister wandered in, she LEAPT away from me as quick as she could, and looked embarrassed to be…

I want to hug all the kitties — especially my husband's ill-tempered orange tabby, who is soft and fluffy and makes the most put out face ever when she gets cuddles.

At this point, all I can do is see her for the miserable person that she is. Oh, and it helps that she's several hundred miles away. Good riddance.

My management team had sort of all come up together — hired around the same time, moved to the same location, and they socialized after hours all the time. She had cultivated the reputation of being the team's That Girl, the one who is delightfully bitchy and makes cutting remarks. Don't get me wrong, she wasn't a…

Thanks! She's three now and awesome.

A woman who needed feminism and therapy, but instead had a lot of hatred and a drinking problem. She is seriously the worst. THE WORST. The stories I could tell would curl your hair.

An insecure supervisor who couldn't believe anyone who didn't fit her narrow definition of "worthy" was a valuable human being. She lost her shit the one time I chatted with her husband because I made him laugh. How dare I, a heavy woman, make her husband cackle, when she is his WIFE?! etc. She made my life hell for…

I shamed her for believing the woman who started the rumor. Everyone knew she was full of shit, and that she'd spin outrageous lies about people who made her feel inferior. Anyway. The point of the story really was that my belly did not emerge until 32 weeks.

This happened to me. I didn't look "pregnant" until I was 32 weeks along. This loaned credibility to the vicious rumor I wasn't pregnant, but allowing myself to get fatter.

I will admit that every time I have a set and I can't immediately remember when my period was (even though he's had the snip and it took us a zillion years to even get pregnant), my mind goes back to the family legend of my great-aunt, who discovered she was pregnant with baby number three when she felt him kick in…

Kid Electron is three and I had a set last week. Mine have a pattern: they come when I'm beyond exhausted and have lived on coffee and ennui for a few days. So, when KE had a 12 hour bug and I stayed up for 36 hours, I was feeling kicks.

Ten months after having Kid Electron, I started feeling phantom kicks. That wigged me the fuck out. There was nothing there — confirmed by an ultrasound — but for about three days, I was convinced I was going to have two babies under the age of two.

I'm not pretending like I go to that gym and Hugh Jackman is cheering me on as I get my big dead up at all.

Oh, trust. That very evening I had a postmortem with my bestie and her lawyer husband was HORRIFIED I let them walk all over me. He wanted to sue immediately. Should have taken him up on it.

Honestly, though, I was so relieved to be out of that place. The last three weeks of my employment featured a migraine every…

I was fired for "fraud" in part. When I was 25 weeks along, I was given a promotion and raise — one that was mandatory by my tenure and metrics. Ten days later, I made a post on a message board (on my own time, on my own computer!) stating I was probably not going to return from my maternity leave, given the cost of…

What about ectopic pregnancies? I picked the not-bleeding-to-death and lost a fallopian tube for my troubles, but I forgot to ask you for your opinion on the matter. Should I have left my husband a widower instead? Do I get brownie points for having wanted said ectopic pregnancy? Will my suffering be termed noble…

Ooooooh, you got a sucker baby the first time. They're easy and wonderful and you think, "YES! PARENTING!" and then you have the second baby, who scoffs at your notions of "sleep" and "being put down" and whatnot.