may 21, 2003. Middle of the road, bleh kind of day. I was really sick last night, and lost all the chicken soupy goodness of my dinner, then I overslept. Essentially I'm trying not to deadhead through the next 4 weeks but man, will it ever be hard. At least the worst of the marking is behind me. I'm not consumed by much these days, locked as I am in a waiting zone between work and vacation, as well as between independently healthy and pregnant. I find myself wondering just what the hell I'm going to do with myself when I'm on mat leave. I know that all first-time parents are gobsmacked by the amount of work involved in a newborn...but I can't picture it. I suppose I should take some consolation from the fact that in just over 6 months, I'll never be bored again. Spooky. Nic has been talking of leaving the nest yet again. This time he wants to move to Brazil to study ju-jitsu (yeah. ALL of his plans are this stupid.) He's planning to move in October, as he wants to arrive before high summer. I know I shouldn't expect much of him, but jeepers creepers. How colossally selfish do you have to be? To move to another country a month before your sister gives birth because you don't want to be too hot...in BRAZIL...even for Nic, this is a new benchmark of massive indifference to the people around him. I guess I still expect him at 25 to grow the fuck up one day and start caring about people beyond his ridiculous obsessions with transient friends that break promises and treat him like shit. He honestly cares more about eating Indian food than he does about me, let alone seeing a niece or nephew born. It's putting me in a right stew and I'm tempted to make an ultimatum in my heart: miss this, boyo, and my home will never be opened to you again. Now the tricky part comes. Should I tell him or not? 2 years ago today: poet's wedding, part the fourth