Ten fingers and ten toes make me want to puke!

I was at my desk, or as the bigwigs like to call it, my pod, pretending to paper clip fauxly important documents, when my phone rang.
"This is Ben." (I always try to reassure the caller that they have succeeded or if they misdialed they hang up before they are embarassed)
"This is R___. Do you have a minute?"
"Oh...um...I'm really busy right now, I have these...um utilities...utility survey things to paper clip. Copy. I need to copy them and then paper clip them. Surveys...utilities."
"Right...okay...this will just take a second. Come see me in my office."
My initial reaction was panic. I was being fired. I was certain of it. Although she did say that this "wouldn't take long". Wouldn't take long to fire me? Fuck her, if I'm getting fired I at least deserve an hour.
I passed by one of my coworkers at the coat closet, who was honestly more interested in her coffee than me.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm fine. I gotta go see R___."
"Oh," she said as in Oh...you poor ignorant child. "You haven't heard?"
"Heard what?"
"Its better coming from her."
My feet began to carry me towards her office even though my brain was still back in the closet hiding in the umbrellas. As I neared her office thoughts were clogging my head and filling my sinuses.
What have I done? I mean okay I'm late to work almost everyday and constantly get caught checking my email. There was that day I left work early and watched Wimbledon at the NBC tower. Maybe it was that time I accidentally looked up porn on the internet. Maybe they have a problem with that pair of smelly shoes I keep under my desk in that bubble wrap? Jesus I really need to take those home...or throw them away. Do my feet really smell that bad?
"Are you going to see R____?" My bosses personal assistant, an ergonomic thorn in my ass, stopped me in the hallway.
"Y--y--es."
"It's great isn't it?"
"What is?"
"Her news."
Jesus, I know this woman doesn't like me and we don't necessarily get along but couldn't she express her joy over my termination to other people? I do all of my talking about her behind her back.
"Is it great?"
"Oh," as in Oh, I'm still smarter than you and make twice as much money for half as much work, "you haven't heard?"
"No," I bleated.
"Well get in there, you definitely need to know. Its so exciting!"
Maybe I wasn't being fired. Maybe I was getting promoted. Or maybe, just maybe, something was going on in this office that wasn't about me.
"Hello R___. You wanted to see me?"
"Yes Ben, please have a seat."
I'm being fired.
"Are you comfortable?"
I'm being promoted.
"Yes."
I'm being fired.
"Would you like a piece of candy?"
I'm being fired, I'm being promoted, I'm being pro-ired? Firoted?
"No thanks."
"I suppose that you should know-" I clenched my stomach and held my breath. Don't let her see you cry. Don't let her see you cry.
"-I am pregnant."
"What?"
"I am pregnant. With child."
"-"
"I'm having a baby."
"--"
"---"
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Ha! Hee hee! Oh God. Ha ha ha ha!"
"What's so funny?"
"Oh...you're serious?"
"Yes, I'm having a baby. I'm three months prenant."
I am the second to last person in the world who should ever have kids. This woman is the last. Not that she would be cruel or mean, but she would probably lose the baby. Constantly misplace it. Name it once and then forget it. Name it again and then forget it. Remember the first name and switch back and forth. Leave it places, mix it up with other children at the nursery. Dress it up in shirts that have ears or animal masks.
"Well...wow...R___. Congratulations?"
"Thank you."
"Why are you telling me?"
"Well in six months I will have to take maternity leave, which means you will have added responsibility in my absence."
"Oh."
"Isn't that just the greatest news you've ever heard." The personal assistant had been eavesdropping.
Which news, the fact that Little-Miss-Loses-Her-Own-Head is breeding or that because I will never have children I have to take on more odd jobs (one of which will certainly be relocating her lost infant when she brings it to work)?
"Oh-oh-oh. Yeah. That's...news all right."
***
This moment gave me pause. Why is it when people tell me they are pregnant, or getting married, I cannot feel happy for them? The first thing I think is, "Wow, how difficult is your life going to be?"
Seriously. The idea of starting a family seems not only daunting to me but inexplicably unnecessary.
Instead of "You must be so happy! Have you picked out any names yet?" its "Oh my god you are gonna lose so much sleep. Do you know how bad your eyes are gonna look?"
And the thought of a miniature version of me running around somewhere is incredibly, sickeningly terrifying. My god, I can hardly handle myself and a cat, how could I possibly handle a small wretched, pooping version of me. Sometimes when I mess up, I hit myself. I’m not ashamed to admit that if provoked, I might hit a child. That’s why I stay away from them. That and for some reason I make children cry. (certainly it isn’t my surly disposition)
Now I know what people will try and tell me.
“You’re young yet. You’re opinion will change.”
“You would make a great father.”
“Young gay men don’t tend to think about families right now.”
“You’re young.”
“I think its because you aren’t older yet.”
Even when I was nine or ten I remember being repulsed by children younger than me. I would look at my new cousins at the hospital and just go
“Oy…what a burden you will be. And if you touch my toys, I swear I will hit you.”
Aunts and uncles would say, “One day you can baby-sit.”
And I would say, “Why? What have I done wrong. Don’t punish me because you’re having second thoughts about being around children.”
As much as people change, and as much as I have changed throughout my life, children and family is something that I have yet to have even the slightest inkling for. I used to tell people I wanted children because I thought it was expected. But why lie? I gloat now.
“Oh you want babies? Ha…I can drink for the rest of my life and not care how loud I am when I come home. Ha ha!”
I’m sure when I’m forty and alone I will realize how selfish I am sounding right now (how is that for self-aware irony?) and maybe change my tune (by then it will be too late and I will have no liver, but we don’t choose these things, they choose us.)
But honestly, I have more to concern myself with than babies and families. For instance, how do I keep from getting fired, when I just got caught writing this entry at work?