Four A.M.
Mood:  d'oh
Topic: Pregnancy
You would think I'd have a better reason to be up at this hour; but the fact I'm writing this demonstrates that I don't have the reason for which I would have hoped.

No, I am awake because remember that thing Sam and Matt were sick with, a week or two ago? I finally came down with it. And now I can understand why the kids were so miserable. Body aches: check. Cough that wakes up the whole family unless you flee the bed and go downstairs: check. Fever: check. Sore throat: check. I'll tell you this much: Sam and Matt handled this tasty little malady with a hell of a lot more style and grace than I'm doing.

Because I am flat-out feeling sorry for myself at this moment. In addition to, you know, the pregnancy thing, I've got a ton of pressure on me at work to finish up certain pain-in-the-ass projects before I go out on leave. A paralegal is a sort of legal janitor; I get stuck with the bad messes, the ones no one else wants to handle or look at or even think about. I'm the guy who used to come with the sawdust and the mop and broom when someone barfed on the floor in grade school. Except he was generally in a better mood than this.

Furthermore, my husband's firm wishes him to travel to San Jose on business. Day trips, true, but they are scheduled for August 10, 17 and 18. My estimated date of confinement, as it's charmingly called, is August 16. That means I've got some tricky scheduling to do in the birth department, because this baby has to be either a week early, or a day or two early, or several days late, if we're to ensure her daddy is in town to welcome her into the daylight. Because a wife about to have a baby any minute is, apparently, not sufficient to get Ben out of these trips. Nothing will do but that the baby's head be actually crowning, the doctor crouching at my knees with the catcher's mitt.

I've been brooding over all this while waiting for the children's cough suppressant (why would there be anything adult strength in the house?) to kick in. And feeling plenty sorry for myself, believe me. The only reason I'm not willing this baby to be born right this minute is because I'm figuring childbirth, and caring for a newborn, and so on might be a little less pleasant while actually sick with the actual flu. That is all.

Well, it's tomorrow than I think; the alarm clock will ring in an hour, and tomorrow -- excuse me, today -- is another day. I'll do the happy thing, because the frustrated, put-upon thing will only bum out the family while improving my circumstances not one bit. I'll smile at the delicious irony of the entire situation. And I will wait for the wind to change direction, because today? God is totally pissing down my back.

Thank you for your time. I promise to snap the fuck out of it before you hear from me next.