This and that

I’m waiting right now. Waiting for an email about an article I’ve submitted for publication, waiting for (hopefully) a phone call about something important for the next stage in my life (vague, I know, but alas not for public consumption yet), waiting to hear about the grad programs I’ve already applied for.

I suck at waiting.

Mr. Monkey does SO MUCH better than I do in terms of living in the day-to-day and not always looking forward and living in anticipation. I struggle with not always thinking “what’s next? what’s next?”. I think it is probably good to have a mix of those two things in a marriage, thinking about what’s next makes me a pretty good planner, I think, and helps make sure some long-term stuff gets done, but I think Mr. Monkey’s day-to-day approach might be less stressful in the long run.

Ring phone, damn it, ring.


The baby is almost 9 months old. She has almost been out in the world as long as I was pregnant with her. The out in the world 9 months go much, much, much faster than the pregnancy 9 months. She is a sweet girl with two teeth, a big grin, ridiculous speed while trying to race up the forbidden stairs before her father or I catches her, and a head full of curly hair. She is a delight and is the absolute apple of her brother’s eye. Oh, you guys. He is so in love with her. I know that they’ll get older and fight sometimes but I will always (I hope) be able to remember how they each light up when they see each other for the first time in the morning and how the sound of his voice makes her crawl at top speed to find him.


I went to the gym on Monday morning at 5am, much to my husband’s shock, I think. My husband doesn’t think of me as a morning person, for good reason. I love to sleep in and while I’m not cranky when I first wake up, it is usually pretty clear I’d rather still be in bed. He knows that I used to get up at 4:30 most mornings in high school for early swim practice but I suspect that is hard for him to imagine in a concrete sort of way.

It was interesting, slipping out of the house while it was still in the deep dark of nighttime on Monday. It felt familiar, like maybe there is still a little bit of muscle memory buried deep down that remembers how to get up that early and to start the day with exercise.

It must be pretty deep down though as I struggle mightily on Tuesday to drag my ass out of bed in time to get to work by my first meeting.


The snow outside is starting to melt. Is there anything uglier in winter than a melting pile of dirty snow? I’m thinking not.


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