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Zero. Since returning to work after a three-month maternity leave, I’m remembering what it was like before I left. It’s strange to be back, like picking up where I left off from another life. In a way, that’s sort of what I’m doing.

My pre-pregnancy life was full of seething irritation at the stupidity of people around me. I had hoped that I would just stop noticing it, but that hasn’t been the case. My ability to get upset about it, however, has significantly dropped off.

I probably should be upset about some of it. Frankly, I’m just too exhausted to expend a single calorie of brain power on it. I do register on some level, as I’m passing by the offending person or thing, thinking I should feel something. But, the odometer in my head which quantifies the number of fucks I have to give remains unmoved at zero.