Write

I really feel like I should be doing something more productive, not just sitting around reading and playing backgammon on the internet. I mean, I should clean things and take the pram thing out of my car. And rearrange the last few boxes in the flat so that there's room to set up the mattress my mother will be sleeping on after Scribble shows up. And possibly get that mattress out from under my bed because leaving until I'm actually in labour might not be the smartest move. Also, I should pack my bag for the hospital, given that this baby is due in twelve days time.

Except that, if I pack things and get the last few bits ready then it'll be real. Y'know? And while I'm so looking forward to not being pregnant anymore, it doesn't change the fact that as soon as I'm not...I'll have a child. And, y'know, be bound to it for the next eighteen years of my life. Given that I've never been able to commit to a single thing/person/job before in my life, this is indeed a scary prospect.

...not as scary as my mother fussing over me for two weeks after he/she arrives but pretty scary nonetheless.

So! I shall watch the rest of S5 Queer as Folk today I think. And read more of The Bourne Ultimatum (the overuse of italics still annoys me but the story is awesome enough for me to overlook it. Also, I too overuse italics so I'm not really in a position to judge) and then watch the rugby later on (go Ireland!) and then possibly a movie before trying, and failing, to sleep properly. Sounds like a plan. A plan born from all kinds of denial but I can live with that.

Number of huge fuckoff spiders on bedroom ceiling: 0
Number of huge fuckoff spiders on bedroom ceiling five minutes ago: 1
Number of huge fuckoff spiders removed from bedroom ceiling today: 2
Number of huge fuckoff spiders removed from bedroom ceiling in the last two days: 3

Not loving this. Anyway, spiders aside, I am productive again! I got my wardrobe pieces out of the box today, which is a huge leap forward to my way of thinking. And there are actually less fiddly bits than I thought there would be, probably due to scale being larger. So I'll probably tackle that tomorrow.

Enrolled at college. Last time I enrolled at college, it took over a month, involved three visits, endless queuing, about twenty forms, photos taken and three trips to the cash office while they tried to get my fees right. Today? Five minutes and done. I signed two bits of paper and that was it. Bonus!

Scribble is still doing well, according to midwife. Apparantly, he/she has dropped a little bit and seems to be about ready for its head to engage in the pelvis. The idea of which squicks me somewhat, if I'm honest, but at least it really means that the end is in sight. All the books I've read say that the head engages about a week or two before delivery - I'm due four weeks today. But the midwife did say that even if he/she engages now, it could still go the four weeks. I'm just hoping it'll be sooner rather than later, I think - I'm bored with waiting, bored with wondering what the sex is, what's going to happen when he/she arrives etc. Just want to get on with it, really. But mostly am hoping that the Scriblet will just shift down a bit so that it stops interfering with my bloody breathing! When you breathe from your diaphragm, its no fun when there's a baby pressing on it too, y'know? It's a minor complaint though. I mean, I haven't had to spend a penny on maternity clothes/bras as all my clothes still fit (and most are still too big, as Midwife pointed out today), I haven't had major sickness, most people still can't tell I'm pregnant and apart from some tiredness, I've largely been unaffected, physically. So, good baby! Lets hope it stays good once its popped.

Also, I had a random dream last night. Steve was grudgingly there with me the day the baby was due and we were just hanging out in a not-very-friendly manner. He was about to leave to go back in the RAF, I was apologetic because it wouldn't come on time. The barn we were in was on fire but we weren't freaked and people in flame-retardant suits were running over the walls and ceilings. People were playing rugby outside on my old rugby ground. Then he left, and the kid was just there (and very cute too! A little boy)...and I couldn't decide between the names Donovan and Darian. I mean, what? I suppose they're alright but its not like I've even considered either. Random. Pregnancy is proving awesome for giving weird vivid dreams.

OK, I need to sleep. An early morning up fighting spiders has left me dead all day. Tomorrow, I fight...wardrobes!

God, maternity leave is boring.