I was rather unproductive today; the remnants of yesterday's ill effects kept me lethargic this morning even though I was out of bed by eight, and my plans this afternoon pulled me away from my desk for some enforced socializing. Even though it's nine p.m. on a Saturday and it seems like I'm wasting my youth, I'm going to go to bed as soon as I write this so that I can get up early and work on the book all day tomorrow in an effort to salvage what's left of the weekend.
Despite my guilt over my productivity levels, I had a good day. I spent the morning taking care of stuff around the apartment, making and eating some veggie fajitas, painting my fingernails (which I ended up smudging, so I'll likely redo them tomorrow), and watching three Tivo'd episodes of '30 Rock.' I adore that show and wish that I could be Tina Fey, so it was quite a nice morning.
My afternoon activity was Jasmine's baby shower in San Mateo. Joanna doesn't have a car and we both live in the city, so I picked her up and took her down with me. Happily, the present that I ordered for Jasmine (a rather comprehensive set of onesies, outfits, socks, hats, and a blanket from Carter's) arrived at her place yesterday, which was just in time, so I got to watch her open it and verify that it was all as cute as it looked online. Jasmine's mom and mother-in-law were both there, and they had made a ridiculous amount of food, so I spent the afternoon eating, playing baby-shower-themed games, and being horrified by the prospect of giving birth.
Seriously, there is a reason why it used to be considered v. inappropriate to discuss the birthing process in front of young, unwed females. Jasmine's mom shared some wildly disgusting anecdotes from her own experience giving birth to three kids without serious painkillers, and while she claimed that she would rather give birth than go to the dentist (a claim I highly doubt), I just can't understand why anyone would knowingly subject herself to having an uncontrollable demon lodged inside of her, kicking her cervix for several months. Ugh.
I'm just kidding about not understanding, and I suppose having kids is worth it, but as I've gotten older and developed more of a sense of myself independent of my relationships with others, the drive to have children has slowed down. It will likely speed up again in my thirties, but right now, I'm glad that there are no little monsters growing in my belly.
So anyway, after the baby shower, I dropped Joanna off, stopped at the grocery store, came home, and wrote in my journal. But because I slept for less than six hours last night, and did not sleep a full eight hours on Thursday night either, I'm too tired to work on my next book-related task, which involves one final line-edit of my manuscript. So, it's bedtime, and I'll edit the whole thing tomorrow. Some might prefer to have a baby kicking their cervix rather than sit someplace all day with a red pen and four hundred pages of manuscript, but to each her own. Goodnight!
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