Daylight Saving Time Resolution!
I’m always on the lookout for opportunities to make resolutions about how I’m going to get my shit together in some area or become a better person, and hey! Daylight Saving Time ended this week. The perfect opportunity for a resolution. Of course my resolutions all fail. Expect…I do floss my teeth now. But that’s about a 1/1,000,000,000 success rate. And yet if one does not persevere, how can one ever succeed? So this latest resolution was as follows: I resolved to do some actual fucking work pretty much every day so that I can save my floundering career. I’m coming up for tenure, and my file has to be ready by August. Before August, I need to get a couple of grant proposals out, and I should really have at least four papers in the pipeline. I currently have zero grants applications planned, and one paper in the pipeline. So…work to be done! Today I succeeded in my resolution. I probably do not deserve any medals just yet, but thank you.
Stuff about my fetus. (1) A bit ago I had some mild but scary cramps. The scariness comes from the fact that they were entirely new and different. Damn, this shit is precarious. (2) This weekend was the big reveal to the family. Mr. Bunny told his mother. She was gratifyingly excited, and when I spoke to her, said (among many other things) that she was so grateful to me for getting pregnant so she can become a grandmother. This would be an awful thing to say, except for the fact that she has never ever said a word to me about being impatient or wanting to know what the hold-up was. Mr. Bunny told his father. He was apparently not very excited. Whatever–he’s a bit odd. I told my mother. She only said one horrible thing that made me want to hang up the phone. I told my older brother. He was excited, but cautious. His wife had a miscarriage, and so he said things like, that would be so cool. I get the caution. I FEEL the caution. But I also think that would be so cool is slightly more hypothetical than is really necessary. I imagined telling my dead father and cried. I told my little brother. He was like whatevs, I’m 24! What do I care! But in a nice way. So that’s done. *Dusts hands* (3) Finally, we went to Crate and Barrel to buy some article of cookware, and while I was there, I looked at their selection of gliders/rockers. I sat down in one to test its comfyness, and tears immediately started flowing. Please let Bun Bun make it.