"...grandmothers are sending onesies, and friends gave us a thick, cloudy blanket..."
Washed Hands, Sept 19, 2006
Like Pontius Pilate, I wash my hands. It's done. I'm done. Everything within my power to secure my future has been completed, and now it's time to hunker down and have me a baby.
I'm flying home today, Tuesday. It's my last flight for awhile. I had a meeting in LA with the head writer, executive producer and the host of a late night show. They're probably bringing in another writer, and my packet was one of the top five. That was one of the four packets I did, back to back, in August. The second, I think. The post-meeting, Monday night quarterbacking... was I boring or interesting, was I enthusiastic or desperate? Did they feel as comfortable around me as I did them?
Done. Hands washed. Fingers crossed. No second guessing, move on.
Before flying to LA on Sunday, I did a college in Chicago on Friday, and before that, ten straight days writing on a pilot for Comedy Central that may contain some of the most cringeworthy comedy ever taped. And that's all I can tell you. Before that, lots of roadwork, some of it I shouldn't have taken. When you're building a nest, you'll try any piece of twine or twig. Before that, Montreal, and before that, sets consisting only of the Montreal material.
It's been a long, pregnant summer.
In less than six weeks, I will be somebody's mother. Kilbaby is crawling all over my insides. He's like Spiderman, trying to scale my ribcage. I practically feel his feet in the base of my throat. He gets the hiccups, I feel the rhythmic pops. My belly is hard as a rock. If you kicked me in the stomach, your toes would break. When I bend over, the belly cuts into my chest. I'm extremely uncomfortable. I try not to waddle when I walk, but oh my God, it feels so right.
El Babydaddy has safety-proofed every door, dulled every edge, and found deals on a crib and a bassinet through Craigslist.
Pete Dominick even gave us a rocking chair. The grandmothers are sending onesies, and friends gave us a thick, cloudy blanket and a fireman's uniform. I succombed to a pumpkin outift, topped off with a green-stemmed cap.
Let's begin this.
