Hiding

I had the much-dreaded meeting with my advisor on Monday.  It didn’t go as badly as it could have, partly because I bluffed a little on what I’ve been doing with the three months since I passed my proposal.  Wait, make that four months.  Anyway, she wants a draft of a chapter before I have the baby.  So…I’ve got roughly six weeks.  I’d panic but I’m just not in the mood.  Also, we ended up at the hospital yesterday because the Lovely Fetus went completely off the radar for three hours, and despite practically begging my OB to see me, I had to go through hospital monitoring anyway.  So, you know, priorities.  Hard to worry about writing when you’re sucking down juice and waiting to feel a ripple in your gut.

It turned out fine.

Lesson of the Day:  My OB office STILL sucks ass.  But nurses who say things like, “Don’t sit around at home worrying, just come in any time” are awesome, thus supporting the long-held truism that nurses>doctors almost always.

Oh, highlight of the diss. meeting:  I tell my advisor that I am having a little trouble  reading/researching because these books, they are depressing and make me cry.  My project, by the way, could be subtitled, “Very Sad Stories about Very Sad Events and the People Who are Made Sad by Them.”  So she says, without blinking an eye, “Well, you’re pregnant.  It’s a normal biological function to cry more than usual.”  Boom.  Just like that.  I mention this because there’s something about her natural acceptance of my emotional state, coupled with an acknowledgement of its right to exist, but lacking any sense of condescension or “oh, you’re a girl!”-iness, that was very cool.

She also said I have to stop hiding from her, which is true. And most of all, that I have to stop hiding by doing work that doesn’t need to be done.  Also true.

OH, and I have a new computer, a macbook.  This means that I also have photobooth, which means that I can marvel at the very slack double-chinny skin under my neck that had better be baby-related, or else I am in trouble.  Mmm, pasty dough neck.  That’s right, I’m looking at you, baby.  I am so hot for myself right now.  :)