I don’t know what my contract looks like. It’s hard for some people to fathom why I even bother hanging around.

I’ve got to figure out if I’m on the blue plan. If their rates are the same. What hospital we’re covered under. And what needs to transpire for the transaction to take place. Last time I spoke with the agent, he’d told me that it would all happen like ships passing in the night. Now we’re trying to speed up the process, disrupt the already delicate procedure. You know, of course, that I would rather not, but it seems to me that Musette’s hormones are shifting. There’s no point arguing with her. She was practically screaming at me in the car.

The baby shifted in her belly. I’m getting pinched in the love handle by my boss. He’s saying it’s just Cameron. Normally we go down aisles that aren’t occupied by people. But it’s just Cameron. And he’s the boss. It’s how molestation happens. Assault. We’ve never had a sexual harassment course.

Going part time gives us the opportunity of opening an enrollment period, but it doesn’t have to.

My agent told me that it was my job to keep Musette working at her job until the baby’s birth.

Nobody’s got any time for the media. You’ve got to find the way into their hearts and homes. The way you present yourself makes all the difference. Becoming of the new world that you were born into and birthing is a matter of life or death in the lit scene. People look to you, o warriors of your city, we the worrying, worry about us. Worry for us and worry with us. We are walking. Talking. Driving the story forward. Driving it home. Nailing it. Don’t be scared. Try new things, and don’t be afraid to make mistakes and break a few eggs. Who’s with me? That’s the more important question than asking who’s against me – though both are relevant and revealing questions.

Blood in the toilet, but I’m okay. Survey says I’ve got a lot of years left for the living. We’re taking this birthing class, and I wish that they had ones for heart attacks and strokes.

You should be more focused on birth and life right now rather than death, says the preceptor, pointing out the pile of baby objects that we’ve got accumulating in the corner of the apartment where the Christmas tree stood just a couple of months ago, before we threw it off the porch.

Death will come, but the birth it’s taking place as we speak.


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