Eric: "Did you ovulate today?"
Me: "Nope. Not yet."
Eric: "What's wrong with you???"
Me: "Urk!"
Eric: "I mean, maybe tonight, then..."

But mindless busy work seemed just the right thing for today, when all I really want to do is go outside before the rain comes. I've been chatting with coworkers who pass by, see me in my office, and choose to overlook the fact that I am indeed working. Being that I'm not really putting any thought into this chore, it doesn't bother me as much as it normally would; I'll regret succumbing to gossip urges next time I really need people to leave me alone, I suppose.

One of our clerks is leaving, so the social committee, of which I am the least active member, is planning a good-bye baked potato luncheon. The committee will bring potatoes, the staff will bring fixings, and we'll all go into carbohydrate overload and fall asleep by the end of the day. Maybe I'll claim to be on the Atkins diet.

In addition to that, the women of the library are planning a "girls' night out" for her at a pizza pub tomorrow night. I said I'd be there, so I guess I have to go now. I'm not a big pizza fan these days, the pub is twenty minutes away in a neighboring town, and I'm not even very close to this particular clerk. It's not worth whining about, though, I guess. Maybe I'll use the opportunity to visit the nearby record store, the one with the huge classical music collection.

I can't wait for storytimes next week. These weeks in between always feel like I'm just killing time. Web stuff, summer program stuff...it just doesn't feel like my real job.

I'm positive that Rita will bring up the grandchildren issue while she's here. After Eric's slip over Christmas, she's been chomping at the bit for us to announce a pregnancy. Poor thing; she's probably almost as anxious as we are... All of her friends are older and already have their grandkids.

I hope Ronnie brings his toolbox. The fact that he tends to roam our apartment, looking for things to fix or tune up used to bother me, but since I've come to terms with the fact that Eric will never ba a handyman, I've been able to appreciate his dad's help. He's a good man to have around!

Just so long as they don't bring news that Bryan and Linda are pregnant. That's hovering on the horizon, too; over Christmas, they were still planning to wait a year or so, but now Linda's talking sooner. Eric still has his competitive streak up; he wants to give his parents the first grandkid, gosh darn it, and he means to do it!

The service last night was nice, at least until the pastor's daughter threw a fit at the altar during communion. Poor thing; she was persnickety all during service. During the ashes part of the service, she stood at the altar until her father got to her, then said, "I don't want them, Daddy." Her mother started to take her away, but she suddenly screamed, "I want the ashes!" It must be especially hard for a father to put ashes on the forehead of his child, saying, "Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Thinking about your own mortality is one thing, but dwelling on your child's is another altogether.