Back to the beach

Hello. I'm still very tired. These days I am primarily reserving my energy for dragging my butt to work and finding reasons to be mad at Jeff for things he has no real control over.* I always suspected being a nurse had to be high in the running for suckiest job ever while pregnant and, well, it pretty much is. The constant lifting and pulling, the running around for hours at a time…and I'm not even waddling yet. (Well, not more than usual.) And all the months I've spent complaining about how no one ever gives me the hard patients bit me in the ass big time last week. At five in the morning, after my third blown IV, when I still hadn't gotten to take a lunch, I slumped against the wall at the nurse's station and whined, "I need help…"

And of course, all four nurses there immediately went into action. They sent me back to the break room couch with my lunch and when I got back they had my new IV started and all my pain medications given. I work with good people.

I did manage to stumble out to the beach yesterday just to make sure it was still there (it was). And under peer pressure, I've sometimes gone to the movies and gotten ice cream. But mostly I lie like a rug, on the couch, re-reading all the Harry Potter books, because, you know, we've only got a little over a month left to go before Book 7, and I need to be ready.

I can't believe we still have to wait almost seven months before we get a baby. It really seems like, once you've actually been declared pregnant, you should be able to take whatever time you need to buy all the stuff, amend your will, etc., then proceed to the nearest Baby Distribution Center to pick up your infant. It's not like it wouldn't still be an event. Because I would imagine the centers would probably only be in major metropolitan areas, like IKEAs. So you could make a whole vacation out of it. The having nine months of waiting is a total drag.

*Knocked Up turned out to be a hysterically funny movie, but it's a bit graphic and brutally honest at times, so the grandparent set probably wouldn't be down with it, depending on the grandparents, of course. There is one scene we've been living and re-living lately, though. The pregnant chick exhibits some pregnancy-induced psychotic behavior, and the father-to-be yells at her something to the effect of "I know it's not you, it's the hormones, so I just want to say 'Fuck you! Fuck you, Alison's hormones!'" Oh yeah, good stuff…

2 thoughts on “Back to the beach”

  1. Now you’ve done it! 🙂 You’ve found the way to make millions,and retire at the age of 34. A ‘baby distribution center’ is a terrific concept. We bet, with the right, marketing :), you could have 85% of pregnant women signing up. Love you, Dad and Mom Niehaus


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