WTF, Sarah Palin?

Not to pass judgment unfairly, or anything. But really--and I know I'm hardly the only one asking this question--what in the hell can Sarah Palin be thinking?

Now, I know lots of people have been talking about the three-day maternity leave. That doesn't bug me so much, though I do wonder (not to be graphic) how quickly she managed to walk into the office that first time. Maybe it gets easier by Baby 5, but I remember my shuffle down the hall to the pediatrician (that also happens on Day 3), and it was none too spry.

And--no surprise here--I'm with her on the whole bring-baby-to-work thing. The Times reported today that she has a travel crib in one office and a swing in the other (I wonder, why not both in both? I mean, if you're governor and all. Probably her offices are big enough) and that she took Trig to meetings all summer in a sling and breastfeeds during phone calls. (No word on whether she has a magic nursing poncho...)

To all that, I say, you go, girl!

But still--Vice President? Like, of a whole country? As her baby (let's be generous and ignore the whole Down syndrome part of the story, not to mention the baby her teenager is about to add to the mix) is turning into a toddler?

It may be that most of the job is attending funerals (though I've done that with the W.B., and it's not the easiest thing in the world, though you do get a nice excuse to get up and walk around, which I personally find to be a nice benefit, at a funeral). Still.

It pains me to admit this, but I'm not even trying anything so ambitious--I mean, I'm proud of what I do, and all, and I like my job, but let's be honest: the stakes are pretty low at my cute little part-time, nonprofit job--and still it's kicking my ass these last couple of months.

Today, for example, on the way to work I had the bright idea that I would take some manuscripts and get a pedicure. Of course, the first place I thought of, one of those cheapy salons, had a half-hour wait, so I passed, and then thought about how nice a foot run would be, and so stopped at a place near work, where nothing is cheap, and actually made an appointment for an hour later. That's right--I played hooky to get a foot rub. That I worked the whole way through the experience mostly took away the guilt, but not as much as you would hope. (And let's not even talk about the economics of what I earned versus what I spent for that hour...)

And, I am completely embarrassed to report, I now have purple toenails. Well, not purple, exactly, but a nice lilac, not too bright or too dark or too grape-y, as I was assured by the nice woman who did the pedicure.

Why purple?

Because I panicked--there were too many choices, and red seemed too bright, and I hate pink, and I never, ever know what color to pick, and the woman told me it was one of the new colors and really pretty. And of the four weird colors I picked to try, it was the nicest.

But mostly, I ended up with purple because I'm insane: wracked with guilt over my formerly easy-going and totally mellow toddler, who, having figured out that now I abandon her for large parts of every day, clings to me, bawling, whenever I drop her off, and wakes in the night crying; fat and clumsy and uncomfortable and tired of being kicked in the ribs and sick to goddamn death of having to pee every five minutes; stressed out about the insane amount of (low-stakes, but still) work I need to get done in the next five weeks (please, please don't come early, baby!) ...

It sounded like such a good idea. Purple--why not?

Maybe that's what Sarah Palin is thinking. Vice President--why not? Life's pretty crazy anyway.

But you know what? The purple isn't actually looking so fun, now that the foot rub is over...