As the sun rises
The bus speeds down city streets
Racing from our dreams.
Goodness gracious, I'm a sleepy me! This morning started off with a 5:30 alarm and a little bit of Bussy Monday at 6 am. The morning's obligation? To entertain an auditorium full of junior high and high school teachers with improvisational antics. The end result? Success. However, this morning's activities have left me with the same sort of exhaustion that I imagine marathon runners feel. No. It's probably even worse than marathon exhaustion. Probably.
Anywho, I'm going to make today's entry short and sweet, as my brain is threatening to cease all functions unless I get to a couch post haste. Thusly, let's get to it.
The wife and I are nine days away from the suggested date of babydom. That fact hit us yesterday (when we were ten days away) pretty hard. We only need fingers to count the rest of the days. Our gallons of milk will expire after the baby is born. I might not wash these jeans until after I've held the kid in my arms. Crazy.
That's more appropriate.
Those that haven't gone through the pregnancy process (or haven't read extensively about it) have mentioned repeatedly that the kid is just a heartbeat away: one moment I'll be performing in a show or writing a blog, and the next moment, I'll be on the way to the hospital, telling the wife to take deep breaths and just hold on until we get there. The funny thing is that, while Hollywood has done a good job of promoting that as the normal birth process, labor actually takes much longer than fifteen minutes. Odds are that we won't be in the middle of a supermarket when her water breaks, and it's even less likely that the baby will force her way out before we can leave the frozen foods aisle. Chances are that the wife will begin to feel small contractions that slowly get more powerful. Then, some seven or eight hours later, we'll start thinking about going to the hospital. Once there, a lot of work has to be done before the room is filled with the sounds of Bozic 2.0. That's quite the opposite of the "instant daddy" image that many people have. Sure, sometimes labor is fast and furious, but that's a vary rare occasion.
Just to be certain, however, the wife and I won't be setting foot in a supermarket for the next couple of weeks. Why tempt fate, right?
I should be off. My body is slowly shutting down. Hopefully I won't wake up with my offspring staring at me in the face, asking "where were you?" with her little baby eyes. Before I depart, here's Today's Joke:
Iraq's al-Maliki demands 'specific deadline' for all US troops to leave
Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki said Monday no security agreement with the United States could be reached unless it included a "specific deadline" for the withdrawal of all American troops from Iraq.
Last week, U.S. and Iraqi officials said the two sides had agreed tentatively to a schedule which included a broad pullout of combat forces by the end of 2011 with a residual U.S. force remaining behind to continue training and advising the Iraqi security forces.
But al-Maliki's remarks Monday suggested that the Iraqi government is still not satisfied with that arrangement. An aide to the prime minister said Monday that Iraq remained adamant that the last American soldier must leave Iraq by the end of 2011 — regardless of conditions at the time.
Al-Maliki claims that the demand to have American forces sat a pull-out deadline are based on his desires for Iraq's full sovereignty, although the White House claims that Iraq recently got its hands on a bottle of whiskey and is just waiting for the withdrawal to throw a house-party.
"We've seen the IM's that Iraq has sent to Kid and Play," said White House spokesman Tony Fratto. "We're onto you, Iraq. We'll be watching you."