High strung would be an understatement as I am thrumming like a piece of twine stretched too tight. A buzz has settled over my mind rendering my thoughts a touch incoherent, making my movements twitchy and nervous, and leaving a sour knot in the bottom of my stomach. We stand only six days from our due date but I feel wound as if we are six days past it and the well meaning of others has not helped either.

“You’re still here?!”

“What? No baby?”

“She’s so big! I’m sure it’s a boy and not a girl!”

“Ha! In a couple of weeks you’ll wish you didn’t do this!”

“Oh no! Watch that doctor because when the baby is that big they can make mistakes and your baby could end up with a palsy of some sort.”

How do I put this nicely? Shut-The-Fuck-Up.  The last thing I need is to hear your theory on how the sex of the baby is different, especially after we and our family have sunk thousands of dollars into girl’s clothing, toys, and items.  On the same line, no I do not think we’ll wish we made a different choice in a couple of weeks, though I am wishing I had made a different choice with regards to engaging in a conversation with you.  As for telling me that something could happen to my baby during delivery, you don’t think I don’t already know that? Do you really believe that I want to even entertain that discussion at this moment, let alone with you? Seriously, what is the matter with you.

Today’s song is “The Message” brought to you by GrandMaster Flash & the Furious 5.