I suppose I should have tried to get some work done today. I know it’s the middle day of a three-day weekend, but I have a feeling the coming week is going to be chaotic (besides having only four work days in it). I thought about working today, because I’m finally starting to come out from under the allergy cloud that has been looming over me. But I didn’t actually do anything.

Part of it, of course, is that I’m too lazy to do anything that doesn’t have to be done tomorrow (unless I can actually do it tomorrow, in which case I’ll put it off until then). But mostly, I’m just not focusing very well these days. I have a lot on my mind, and my mind doesn’t work at a very high capacity in the best of times.

The thing is, I’m not even the one having a baby. Sometimes I feel like I am, because I get way more details than I probably have a right to know about every phase and facet of the process. And I’m grateful to be included, because I’m so used to feeling left out. For most of my life I’ve been on the outside looking in, and I didn’t even think about what I was missing. That was just the way it was. Now it’s different.

And guess what? I wouldn’t want to be the one having a baby. It’s really scary. I think I could handle being pregnant, but I wouldn’t want to give birth. I’m not sure Tammy doesn’t feel sort of the same way, although once she’s accomplished the former, she really has no choice about the latter. It’s too late to change her mind now. Tomorrow might even be the day.