Today was my last day of work - and it brought the conversation I've been dreading for weeks. I had to fire somebody today. I've never done this before (and earnestly hope never to have to do it again). Firing people sucks. (Getting fired is worse, I realize, but if you have any heart at all, it's not easy to deliver the news either.)
It's an enormously complicated situation, and not something to be broadcast on the internets, but it's over. The person handled it better than I had anticipated. And it's over. I did it; not the way I wanted to leave for a few months, but it's done.
Now I get to stay home and stare at my belly, chanting anything from "come on, baby, we want to meet you!" to, "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT," depending on how I feel at the time. Yesterday's doctor appointment was not as exciting as I'd hoped; still just over 1cm dilated, which means - well, nothing, really. I could go into labor today. Or tomorrow. Or a week from now. At any rate, they'd bring me in for induction if baby doesn't show up by Friday, November 5th. I really don't want to be induced, so I'm hoping that the threat of the 5th will be enough to motivate this kid.
In other good news, you know what else will be over soon? Election season! No more political ads! Hot damn and hallelujah, people. I can't take it anymore. Between my chanting, "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT" to this baby and, "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP" to the politicos on television, I'm coming off a lot more cranky than I actually am.