And that is a seriously good thing.  Tomorrow is my last day at work, and by Saturday I’ll be at 39 weeks.  I think that means things are coming up on the end (theoretically).

I think Monday’s decision to go on leave early was the best decision I’ve made all week.  I”m not getting much sleep at the moment, courtesy of back pain that strikes after I’ve been lying in one position for more than about five minutes.  *rolls eyes*  And lack of sleep does not make for a friendly pregnant coworker, believe me.

I have trouble dealing with idiocy on a good day when I’m not sleep-deprived, much less sleep-deprived, needing to pee every five minutes, and reading to explode a small person from my nether regions at any moment.  That tiny little fact made today all sorts of interesting, as I got about five last-minute requests, mostly for stupid things that, had someone else done their job at any point within the last … oh, month, would have been completely unnecessary.  The sorts of things that “a lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part” was made for.  It was really kind of ridiculous.

But I survived, and I will survive tomorrow, and maybe at some point the Munchkin will be born.  In the meantime, he’ll rattle around in there, pounding my inner organs like uncomfortable pillows, until he’s ready to emerge, and I’ll try to get through tomorrow without strangling anyone.