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I feel distracted today.

It’s a terrible feeling for me; my brain is pretty ADD at the best of times, and when I get in this mood it seems to pare down my attention span to roughly the half-life of atomic element 109 (seaborgium, and no I did not make that up).  I find myself drifting from reading to videogames to TV to iTunes to drawing to wandering the neighborhood.  It drives my wife a bit nuts.  It drives me a bit nuts too.

I’m going to blame this mood on Baby’s refusal to come out.  She can reach out and touch her due date, but still she sits inside my wife’s belly, poking and prodding her squashed organs and playing hell with her bladder.  She is not making any big moves to indicate that she’s thinking about joining us in the outside world.

We want her out.  We are tired of waiting.

There is something about the degree of anticipation right now.  It’s palpable.  It has texture to it.  It feels like I have little static shocks jumping around the surface of my brain.  It makes me twitchy and shaky.  It’s far worse than the pre-wedding anticipation.  It makes the pre-house closing day seem like a vague longing.  Waiting to hear back on my new job was a joke by comparison.

As yet I have only found one activity that can take the edge off this anticipation:

Getting beaten up.

The author getting kicked in the face by a very good friend. It is neither the first nor the last time that such a thing has happened.

Only while I am desperately trying not to get knocked out or tapped out am I able to forget that I am on the brink of the most exciting and life-changing moment of my existence.  That’s how bad this feeling is; I actually need the fear of imminent significant injury just to keep me from going bonkers every passing moment.  The distractions lasts until the timer buzzes, signaling the end of the 3 minute round, at which point I limp off to the sidelines to nurse my bruises and mull away at the thought of becoming a father sometime in the very near future.  Then I head back into the fray to find some mental peace in fending off kicks aimed at my head.

I’m one step away from thrill-seeking Twilight: New Moon style.

(And identifying with Bella Swan in any way whatsoever makes me want to cry…)

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