Clearly, I was not meant to complete participation in NaBloPoMo. Two nights of the last three, I've gone to put Claire to bed with the intention of coming back to the computer to write and play with my friends on IM.
Instead, I've fallen asleep.
Gestating is tiring, y'all.
Last night I had a dream that Jamie took me with her to go see a house she and her husband were considering buying. The people currently living in the house were there, and they had WAY too much crap -- so much that you couldn't even see parts of the house. And bunkbeds, for the whole family. Plus, there wasn't a roof and the house was sinking into a swamp and needed foundation work. Still, I had a hard time telling Jamie that I didn't think it was such a great deal, and for some reason, she didn't come to that conclusion on her own.
As if all that weren't crazy enough, I asked her if she was going to have another child, and she sheepishly said, "Maybe." Then I shouted, "Are you pregnant?!" and she told me that she was "late" but hadn't taken a test yet.
Right now, Jamie is praying to the good Lord that this is just a psycho pregnant woman's dream and not a prophecy.
Claire and I are headed to Asheville, NC today to go enjoy Dan Zanes' wacky hair and funky kids music. We're meeting a bunch of friends from Charleston there, some of whom have been camping already and others who are going to camp this week. I don't camp. My excuse is that I don't have the hair for it.
We're doing it the cushy way and staying the night at The Sweet Biscuit Inn, where I will get a shower, a warm bed, and a delicious breakfast.