the bag. it is packed.

Last night as I lay on the lounge in that divine peace that is America's Next Supertroll and nacho cheese doritos, I realised there was this annoying period-like pain down low that maybe I should be monitoring. So, using the display on the TV (who wears a watch these days?) I discovered this irritating pangs were coming and going oh, every 4 minutes. I was actually quite chuffed that my body was in sync with itself and had remembered it was incubating, despite my best efforts to trick it into thinking otherwise. Now I learnt the long hard six week way with Felix that these pains count for shit. My body would taunt me with similar pangs almost each and every day and then amount to diddlysquat. Anyway, after about an hour and a half I figured perhaps I should at least pay them their dues and pack a bag. So now, the bag, its packed. I even remembered stuff for the baby.