So I started work last Monday. Fortunately, I have yet to feel an overwhelming urge to get my PhD.
I had my first business trip this past week. I went to Seattle, which was nice. What was not nice was the in-flight movie on the way back home. Jane Ayre. Seriously. I would have enjoyed being in the conference room where it was decided that showing Jane Ayre on a 2,000 mile flight was a good way to retain male customers.
Speaking of long, painful journeys, my wife is beginning to worry about the pain of delivering Matthew. My initial reaction was to call her a coward. However, I later learned this is actually typical of human beings when faced with the prospect of spending upwards of 48 hours pushing a head-and-shouldered creature out of their suddenly less private, less special place. And don't laugh at 48 hours. Our birthing class instructor's third kid took that long. She refers to him as "The One I Love Less."
It also doesn't help that a couple of our friends at school just had an absolutely gorgeous baby girl. Being that E is not a sociopathic monster, she has no qualms with the beauty or femininity of the new child. The issue is that the absolutely gorgeous baby girl took 35 hours to arrive and came out roughly the size of a duffel bag. A just barely under 10 pound duffel bag. So yeah, E is getting a little nervous. But she'll be fine. Everytime she has a big challenge she gets nervous then puts her head down and does it. It's quite impressive. That said, I'm not sure she will want her head down too much this time, it may be gross to watch what's going on.
Oh yeah, and the friend who made it 35 hours? ROCK STAR.
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