And Now we Wait

So I've had a couple of uneventful doctor's appointments. I have refrained from telling you about them because they sound grumptastic and depressing and also boring. And This Fine Girl is trying so hard to keep her boy in whilst I am trying to evict mine that I just couldn't bring myself to complain.

So instead, I present you with a list of places I could have gone into labor this weekend but DIDN'T.

• Borders
• Kroger
• WalMart
• Golf Galaxy
• Old Navy
• Pet Supermarket
• Barnes and Noble
  
• Church
• Burnstopia

Alas. My body isn't the least bit interested in labor at this point. The boy--he is his father's son and he's comfortable. So I suppose that means he'll get here when he gets here. I was vaguely hoping he'd arrive early and save me from some of the piles on my desk. But as it is I have only 9 days of work left. 9. Days. Of working...and then leave starts and I will actually be able to nap and put my feet up and do the things that everyone at work keeps telling me to do but I can't very well do at my DESK.

In other news, I got to hang out in bookstores this weekend. Bookstores, those meccas of peace and loveliness. Those places of good smells and rows and rows of promise. I picked up 3 new paperbacks** for once the boy gets here and I'm sitting with a newborn for hours...but one of them I have begun already and I must say--it's deliciously summerific.

I had a small epiphany this weekend in those meccas of joy that are bookstores. Summer reading has a very distinct flavor for me. I tend to read big thick books (the closer to 1000 pages the better) and I tend to check in to historical thrillers, which I normally never ever go for (I like 19th century novels or impressionistic post-modern crap that no one else really likes). 3 summers ago it was Star of the Sea by Joseph O'Connor which was AMAZING. 2 summers ago, well, I'm embarrassed to name the book that I could.not.put.down.to.save.my.life. And so I won't. Last summer it was...well, also an embarrassing and very VERY popular novel that has since been made into a move. This summer it's The Meaning of Night by Michael Cox. I'm 100 pages in and it's just as AMAZING as Star of the Sea. I can't wait to see what happens. This is one of those odd phenomenons that only happens in summer--like the solstice or strawberries and the inescapable sweetness thereof.

So in spite of all my efforts this weekend, I am back at work. Plugging away at the piles and piles of worky work that have taken over my desk in lieu of my impending absence. In other news, one of my more demanding professional types is out sick so I may just find some time this afternoon to sit and read rather than working on the worky work piles...since my body isn't interested in labor, I'll just use that as an excuse to put off until tomorrow what I should be working on today. MwaHaHA!





**For those interested, the other two books were The Used World by Haven Kimmel and Divisadero by Michael Ondaatje (I've read everything this man has published--he's one of my favorites)