American Midol: The "I wanna wah-whah-wheahhh" Rant

The Ranter, up close and personal.

Nasally whine or bold manifesto? You be the judge...

I wanna get through my damn emails.

I wanna have another kid without worrying about the coverage of my health insurance OR my maternity clothes.

I wanna hire a housekeeper without guilt (but not tell anyone I need one).

I wanna get a flat stomach before I die, without involving any surgical procedures.

I wanna run away for about six months and just stare at a wall - really! - with no other project or motivation wrestling with the wall's full attention...except maybe start on those stomach-flattening crunches.

I wanna get a new car - one that has all its hubcaps and doesn't suffer from deep cosmetic blemishes incurred during the 1990s.

I wanna figure out a life schedule in which I can have some sort of sexual encounter at least once every day...

...Preferably with my husband, with solo rendezvouses as a good, solid Plan B.

I wanna laugh so hard my head feels like it's going to splat open at least once a week.

I wanna write all the freakin' books, create all the blasted websites, invent all the damn informational products, host all the flippin' workshops, and record all the dinky audio programs that scribble through my notebooks and course through my veins whenever I'm juiced up with coffee and a decent night's sleep.

I wanna ROCK more and have fewer ROLLS.

I wanna stop beating myself up.

I wanna save the world without killing myself.

I wanna feel like I deserve the praise and kind words I am fortunate enough to receive.

I wanna get through to my son how crazy-proud I am that he's FINALLY potty-trained! (Well, close enough for government work…)

I wanna get streamlined, fully-strengthed, organized, fortified, jazzed up, zenned out, and magna-throttled without selling my soul to horn-accessorized mutants.

I wanna love.

I wanna breathe.

I wanna be...EVERYTHING.