"Write through it"
Yup. OK. Here I go. Writing.
I'm in NY and it's 1 in the morning. Everyone is sleeping. Some are snoring and I actually think I hear one of them whimpering. I've been playing Tetris for 2 hours and if my hand isn't numb tomorrow (today?) I'll eat the ratty bra I've been wearing for a week.
Waiting for this baby has become VERY IMPORTANT IN MY LIFE. I can't get away from it. I can't cook it away, errand it off, clean it to the wayside and even, apparently, Tetris it to my subconscious for more than, oh, 7 seconds.
Being one who births at home (more on that later), it's a big deal for me to be in my home for a good long while before labor starts. Well, BABY, I've not worked since October 27th or something! I'm fucking home. HOME!
I have a bead on every dust bunny, know down to the sheet how much toilet paper is in the house, washed the three toilets I could potentially be puking in any minute about nine thousand times.
Can I just say: I'm ready? And can you oblige?