Time has been a bit of a soft spot for me for quite some time now. It is always lurking next to me, but we have not been formally introduced. It's like time is stalking me. It doesn't even have the decency to come up and tell me "hi, I'm Time. I am deceptively short....and long."
I don't have time to read every book about pregnancy. I don't even have time to finish ONE! Which means I do not have time to even think about parenting books (whoops, I just thought of it. I'm sure I'll be late for something now because of it). I want to be ready. But how ready can you truly be? Everyone tells you giving birth is hard, parenting is hard, everything changes, but it is so wonderful... so all I can really do is wait for the inevitable. I was terrified about this whole child birth thing until just yesterday. I was driving to pick up Jace. I pictured holding her. I was overcome by joy, and the pain didn't matter anymore.
Time is short: when I think about work, school and all the things I need to do to feel accomplished.
Time is long: when I think about getting a house, buying a new car and becoming middle class.
It seems like time and me are in different time zones. And I think it only fair that time comes to me because I am in my third trimester so I can't travel. I don't think time is pregnant. Maybe if we were better friends I would know. If it were what would it have?