Headed home to DC this evening. I'm both entirely ready to be there, and entirely unready to leave the baby. He's old enough to miss me, and his parents don't sing to him enough. It's the only way to calm him down sometimes. (MY sister says that nannying is good for me because it give me a socially appropriate outlet for my compulsion to randomly start singing. I say I don't need a socially appropriate outlet, because she's the one who cares about what other people think.)
I have tons of stuff to do today, and am looking forward to my late night train ride home. Rio is ready to go. I'm forcing myself to save my audiobooks for vacation, but it's hard. Delayed gratification has never really been my thing.
So I'll get home late tonight--or rather early Friday morning--and then hurry scurry to pack and re-organize, and then I have a mysterious appointment tomorrow night that I believe involves my birthday, and then we leave for Costa Rica at 7 a.m. Saturday. Good thing the baby has me trained in early rising.
I'd been hoping to develop a thoughtful and amusing post in honor of my birthday (Monday!!), but I can't think of anything to say that doesn't involve my phobia of ovarian shutdown. I mean, my genetic material is so good, there should be a national movement to encourage me to pass it on. It would be uber-helpful if I could actually meet a man I'd like to have a drink with at some point, let alone relations. I don't think I'm a good candidate for virgin birth, even though it's been a while.
In other news, my cuz gave me a gift certificate to her salon and I used it to get my hair cut yesterday. Big, big, big mistake. Even if I did met a nice Costa Rican man to have relations with, he's probably think I was a boy.