It was spitting with rain when I woke up this morning, and was not what I'd call very August-like. When I got to Farringdon, a water main had burst and was flooding down the road.
There's something vaguely anarchic about burst water mains. No, not anarchic... when they burst, they crack the road, a huge hole appears and the water, bubbling joyously out of the whole in abandonment is silty and brown. The water is so entirely Out Of Context, breaking the solid monotony of a road's dark grey surface, with it's own petite variety of a thunderous waterfall. No doubt it will be fixed when I return to wend my way homeward to see the Midwife who is coming over tonight (yay!)
Woke up at 3 wanting to go the loo and managed to get back to sleep to stave it off until about 5.20, during which time I had what looked like it was going to become a horror-dream so was quite glad for the more pressing problems to wake me from the building anxiety (I was at that stage, with unnamed colleagues, looking through old brown books in an old stone building surrounded by - surprise surprise, water). As well as desperately wanting to rid myself of what felt like several gallons of pee, I was also desperately thirsty.
I think I'm entering the stage where my vital organs are becoming compressed enough to mean I will be awoken in the night with a need to pee regardless of whether the dark curtain liners are delivered or not. Of course, what *I* do is close the door and not flush because you can do that just as well in the morning. What Mackay does is keep the door open so I can hear his sonorous stand-up sprinking, then flushes, guaranteeing noise for the next 5 minutes.
I hope you enjoyed this brief interlude into our lives.
Oh and hello to a friend from work who has been secretly shown this URL (I have about as much faith in anyone from work finding this as I do that we'll be walking on Mars by the end of the decade) because she - HUGE CROSSED FINGERS is pregnant to the tune of nearly 7 weeks, and I thought she might want to see what gibberish I've come up with to talk about during the last few months of hard labour.
Feel free to leave notes at the appropriate points in my past where you are now. Hopefully you won't have as much early grief with the NHS as I did. Nasty.
Oh - her movements are becoming more focused. I can feel her growing almost daily. She feels so different to just last Sunday, for example. Her bashings and scrapings are clearer, with more weight behind them. She scrambled around last night for an hour or so. Probably less, but I think that the short bursts of energy she has tires her out quite as bit, since then she does nothing for hours and hours (or during the entire day, which freaked me out yeaterday).