Monday, June 23

Too Bored to Post...

Do you ever have one of those days that just drags on. You have e-mails to answer, stories to write, stories to rewrite (or whatever it is you do), phone calls to return, but gosh darnit you just don't feel like doing any of it, so instead you mindlessly hit the refresh button on your personal e-mail to see if anyone from the outside has tried to make contact with you and eat cookies one by one from the department stash? That's the day I'm having. And no one is trying to make contact with me. Which, actually, is a good thing, because I wouldn't write them back now anyway. Lethargy has taken over.

The weekend was a good one but it was too short and I didn't get enough done. I got to spend a complete 48-hours with Adam, and now he's gone again, this time to Denver. I don't mind the domestic trips so much, because I least I can still contact him whenever I like. The international trips, though, suck because I have to remember everything I want to tell him for when he calls me and considering that a good 60 percent of the time now I can't remember the end of the sentence that's already coming out of my mouth, it means I don't usually have a whole lot to say to him.

It was yet another get-things-done weekend. For me, it was very Martha, sewing curtains for Adam's new basement office, working on the baby hat I'm knitting for my class, although I also worked on a book review that I have to turn in this week. I'm organizing pretty much everything that gets in my way; nesting is a very real and dangerous side effect to pregnancy. Don't even think about coming between me and my labeling gun! Adam patched up holes in walls, finalized the registration on the new car (an almost all-day event), touched up paint, and got his office nearly organized. I made it to yoga and swimming (I go weekly now, on Sundays, to the 7 a.m. swim at the Y), and I gorged myself on ribs when the old red meat craving hit (although most were pork, so I guess that's white meat). We had brunch at a friend's house, and I have to say it was one of the most enjoyable brunches I'd been to in a really long time. A fabulous mix of people so that the conversation always flowed and was always interesting.

Our AC installation is supposed to be completed today, although the installers have annoyed both of us to no end (does anyone take pride in his work anymore [asks the gal who's not taking a lick of pride in her own at the moment]?), and the carpet should be installed on Wednesday, but given how many times Home Depot has screwed us over, I'm not counting on that. Once that's done, though, then the interior of the house has had all the fixing up it's going to get and we can start buying baby furniture. The baby is moving pretty much nonstop now, and at times, my belly looks distorted. But he's not cooperating. I'm having some doubts on the name we've chosen. I adore the name, but it's becoming a common name, and after a lifetime of torture dealing with "Jennifer Brown," I don't want to do that to my child. Of course, at least he'll have an uncommon last name (although I keep forgetting that fact. I thought the other day, "Oh, I should buy up Brown Brown's domain!" So I looked up Xbrown.com as well as variations on it to see what was available and then it hit me: Brown Brown's last name is Medros. He can wait fifteen years and pick whatever variation on his name he likes, because it's not like those "medros" domains are getting snatched up! I also thought of getting him an e-mail address but as Adam pointed out, any address he'll want for the next twelve or so years will be "dumptruck87409@" or "ilikedonuts@" [oh, wait, that last one is Adam].) Anyway, I have a name alternative that Adam also likes, so I keep asking Brown Brown, "Kick me if your name is X." If nothing happens, I'll say, "Kick me if you're name is Y." (And yes, I did just give away the names! I want the baby to either be X Medros or Y Medros.) He responds to neither. Now, for a goof, I just throw out random names to see if he'll respond. For those who are curious, Brown Brown's name apparently is not X nor Y, nor is it Marvin, Xavier, or Achilles. And to top it off, my own belly button is still freaking me out--it's almost completely flat. Yuck!

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