A few days ago I sent Sara a text at 5:30ish in the afternoon. When I hadn't heard from her by 7:15, I was in full panic and assumed that she was giving birth. Which she assured me was not the case. Although, it really could happen any time. She tells me that she was in such severe pain on Saturday that she was convinced she was going into labour. The truth is that Molly, who formerly was standing straight up, turned herself upside down. Getting into position.
Jack is still standing straight up, so the two are positioned head to toe. Not 69ing, sadly. Jack has his back to Molly, so it's more like they're 19ing. Or 61ing.
But 6 more days. If everything goes according to plan. Tension is mounting. At least, it is for me. I have had some people express surprise that I'm so anxious about it. Not to make light of the life change that my friends are about to undergo - but it's going to change my life, too. And I'm so not ready. Clearly, they should have considered how it would impact me when they decided to throw caution to the wind and stop trying to avoid having children.
I spent a good portion of last weekend drinking mojitos for two reasons.
First, because of Caribana. I have an annual tradition of getting as far away from downtown as possible on Caribana weekend. Which I guiltily think might make me racist. Or just agoraphobic. At any rate, I opted for something tropicalish to mark the occasion.
Second, to try and forget about current circumstances. Delicious lime and mint denial. Compliments to the bartender, but it seems things have progressed to a point where all-in-good-fun oblivion is no longer possible.
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