It Never Ends...

Query from partner in charge: "What time are you hoping to leave this evening?"
Always great when that question is posed at 4:42pm on a Friday. When you're 8 months pregnant.

Gee, I don't know, what time am I looking to leave? Sometime before I go into Labor spontaneously from this uncomfortable chair you have me sitting in? Let's not even mention that at this point I can't have shoes on. (Yes, I wore Wellies to work due to the rainy weather-- thankfully LL Bean's idea of a Wellie is about as wide as a dinner plate so I was able to shove the gun boats in to those, but they're not really appropriate office wear...) Now my left foot has swollen beyond the ability to fit into either my ballet flats or my heeled mules.

I had to stumble out of my office to go to the printer and I decided not to even bother with the whole "shoe" thing and just went barefoot. I was hoping to go unnoticed but of course the machine was out of paper so I'm standing there next to the secretarial station barefoot and pregnant.

Anyhoo, my response to the inquiry (as it related to review of an email, discussion of the same and now revision and circulation) was that I didn't have a particular time in mind (POLITE LIE) but that I was "losing steam". Losing Steam? Yeah, I lost steam at about 12:30 this afternoon, actually, revise that. I lost steam this morning at 9:19 as the train was pulling in to Penn Station. Nothing like a few Braxton Hicks contractions on the way from Penn, through the subway and to the office building to remind one that I really shouldn't be travelling anymore.

Now it is 5:24, any hopes of leaving at 5 are dashed. Now have to hope to be out by 6, probably meaning that I'll be on the 6:30 train and at PJ until 7:30, not home until 7:45 or possibly 8 depending.