Is it time yet? Part Two

Nope, no baby. So all you folks calling and stopping by looking disappointed that I was at work today—suck it up. Babies come in their own time. Hounding Staylee and I will not make the baby come any faster. It will just serve to irritate me even more than the snowstorm of work that has hit my office has irritated me.

People keep giving me crap jobs to do that they think are the most important possible thing I could have to do. Then they get upset when I explain the first come, first serve policy. But I want an Umpa-Loompa NOW, Daddy! says they. Can it you nit! says I. I promise, the world will not go careening off into oblivion if you don’t have your copies RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND.

At the doctor on Friday there was really nothing going on. No real dilation or engagement. I go back on my due date and if nothing has happened by then, we’ll induce around October 5th. So there all you need-to-knowers, there is a date you can mark on your calendar.

I survived my very uncomfortable trip to Alpine this past weekend, even though I really didn’t want to go. I have decided transcendentalists needed to shut up and stop trying to transcend their own existence and start trying to transcend their very dull habit of talking a point to death. That means you Thoreau and Emerson. And Fuller, don’t think you’re off the hook just because you’re a woman—you’re just as guilty as the other two. Unfortunately, my professor has a long standing love affair with good old Henry David, so I keep my eye rolling and less than flattering opinions to myself.