Baby Blues…Er…Um…I Mean News…

Eight weeks to go and the baby has started violently kicking. Her favourite goal is my bladder. Robert has had the opportunity to feel her move a couple of times, but so far she has remained shy to everyone but me. Random people come up and put their hands on my belly, but I tolerate them for the most part. I have taken a job as a “Courtesy Associate” at one of the local Wal-Mart Super Centers. Basically, I stand at the door and annoyingly greet passersby; another function being to check receipts to make sure that anything they have stolen is safely hidden on their person, where I cannot search. When alarms go off, I must attempt to determine if it is an obvious cause or not. If not, I must let them go and allow them to keep whatever they have stolen, since, as I have mentioned, I am not allowed to search them. Assuming someone were to bolt out the door with merchandise, I can only call helplessly after them, as I am not allowed (nor would I wish) to chase them. Anyway…my job aside, life is okay. I live alone in a two bedroom apartment within walking distance of my university, which is convenient. I moved out of Robert’s house at the end of January, as at that time he did not see us living together as a necessity. I love him dearly, though there are times in which he infuriates me…but we are getting along great now. I am trying to let him live his life, whilst searching for ways to distract myself. Sometimes I annoyingly call him too often, but when he kindly points this out, I back off. I want to be with him, either married or living together, but I know I cannot make him do anything he does not wish, and I cannot know what he will wish. The thing is, I am not looking for happily ever after, more like compassionately ever after, or something like that…but can I learn patience…soon…please…? LOL…On the plus side, we are both looking forward to the baby’s birth. One thing that bothers me is the fact that he will be out of town from the twenty-fourth of March until the eighth of May on job training. What if I go into labour prior to his return? And he gets to go to Nashville!!! But I will survive…I always do. More later when I have more time. Jay Jay JohansonWith all my best intentions I wrote this little song, and you were all I mentioned and focused on so long. I hoped somehow, that you and me would end up in a family tree. How could I be so wrong? How could I be so wrong? How could I be so wrong?

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