I'm so glad that, by pure luck, we timed things correctly. I'm also glad that, if by some chance we were successful this month, I'll be able to look back happily on the night of conception rather than just remembering one more night of "It's time, honey, I'm fertile. Let's get this over with."

Eric is stressed. He's really worried about the house thing; he's beginning to think that we just can't afford to do this. He's coming up with every reason in the book why we shouldn't do this, including, "What will you do if I die? I don't have enough life insurance to cover the mortgage!"

This is his typical response to major decisions. He's positive on the idea until it becomes more tangible, and then he begins to talk himself out of it. When he decided to take his old job, he struggled mightily with the decision, and didn't really accept that it was the right one until almost the very end; he often brought up ideas concerning our leaving the Toledo area once I finished school. I bit my lip, hid my smile and nodded. We weren't going anywhere, and I knew it. Simple matters like whether or not to get the rotors replaced on his car weigh heavily on his mind, and they usually warrant frequently questioning as to whether or not he's done the right thing. Frankly, I'm surprised that he didn't agonize over his decision to propose to me, though he probably, silently, did. I've mentioned his cold feet over the whole conception business, though it has become a rarer event that he asks me if I'm sure we want to do that.

I know that I'm impetuous. I know that I tend to make decisions quickly, and that there have been many made in this manner that I've regretted. Still, I do resent being yelled at, being told that I'm not thinking rationally, having it suggested that I'm an illogical person who is too impetuous by half. Eric would probably publicly deny thinking anything so black and white, but he's told me as much in private. His estimation of me hurts, even more so because it strikes so close to home.

Anyway, we're meeting with Realtor Joan today around three o'clock to discuss our next move. Turns out that, while the previous offer made on the house was ridiculously low, there has been increased interest in the house - more showings, calls for information, and the like. I don't want to get scooped out of the only house we've found in our price range so far that hasn't made my skin crawl! Now, of course, there'll be other houses, but something about this one felt right.

Am I being too impetuous? I'm being impetuous. Is it really such a bad thing? If I waited on Eric's timetable, we could miss out on the right opportunity for us.

Mother of Pearl, we're being invaded! Every bloody soul in Perrysburg has decided to check out a book, and half of them only want books that are at some other library, or are in storage in the basement, or only exist in their imaginations. I just helped a woman who wanted eleven different trashy romances, all by the same author, and most of them were in storage in other branch libraries. What's she doing a thesis on this author? She just giggled when I asked, and said, "She's really a good writer. If you read enough romance novels, you eventually learn who the good ones are."

Somebody slap me.

We also had a kid in here apparently doing his darndest to do the bare minimum of work required on a project. He wanted a book of no more than fifty to sixty pages on the subject of honesty. Problem: most of the books of that length are written for thrid grade and under; this kid needed a book for about sixth grade level. I tried to explain repeatedly, but I finally gave up and gave him a list of books that met his requirements. He was back in a few minutes: "Those are too easy!" Well, yeah, that's what I told you. Eventually, he accepted reality and got a longer book; I took pity on him and found him a sports-themed one.

Saturdays are awful, and everybody is going nuts over the tax forms. I'm doing my "grin and nod stupidly" routine, but they're not accpeting that I know nothing. I must be hiding something! I work for the library, therefore I must know all the tax forms and their uses! What do I have to do to prove my uselessness in this subject? Drool all over the 1040's?

I need a nap.