• I am groggy. I submitted the chapter and then napped for…well over an hour. Maybe two hours.
  • I woke up, looked at the references and sources I was thinking about adding to the chapter before I sent it to The Advisor (but didn’t), and really, really regretted not adding them. I am now convinced his response will be, “You giant slacker.”
  • Whatever. At least I finally got a chapter to him.
  • I’m having one of those days where there is not enough food in the world for me. And I need to go grocery shopping. This is not going to be pretty.
  • Partly, it’s not going to be pretty because–as always–GB has the car. Which means I need to walk to the grocery store (not far, maybe 1/2 a mile) and back–with all the groceries. Needless to say, this limits how much I can buy.
  • I need one of those folding metal cart things, but I never remember that I need one when I’m at a place that sells them.
  • I don’t really feel like I can get this next chapter done in the next three weeks. It would be nice if I actually knew what it was about. I have a detailed outline, but it seems to me that what I have here is not really what the chapter is “about”. This could be tricky.
  • Also, in case it hasn’t already become abundantly clear, holy crap do I work slowly.
  • We see a different doctor at our next visit, on the 27th. There are five (six?) doctors at my OB’s practice, and they make a point of having you meet with all of them before your due date–so I will (theoretically) have at least some familiarity with whoever ends up being my delivery doctor. This is fine, but I’ve recently become obsessed with the worry that the doctor we’re seeing next time will not be quite as liberal with the ultrasound as our regular doctor. And I have my heart set on finding out the li’l parasite’s sex at the next visit. I do not want to wait another month. Why? Certainly not so I can buy appropriately-colored carseats. I’m just really freaking impatient.
  • If I can’t find out the sex at the end of this month, I worry that I will be sorely tempted to shell out the money for a private “gender determination” ultrasound.* Just because I’m curious. And I don’t want to do that, because I’m already thinking I’m going to want to shell out the money for a 3D ultrasound (like this, for instance) at some point down the road (see above re: curious), and there’s no freaking way I can justify that twice.
  • Everyone who’s ventured a guess–that would include, so far, GB, GB’s mom and dad, my mom, and my sister–is absolutely certain that we’re having a girl.
  • I still have no feeling one way or the other on this. But last night I did have my very first dream about the baby. It’s kind of too bad, because I’ve been having these crazy, vivid, disturbing dreams every single night, but last night’s dream was not very vivid, and now it’s hard to remember. Unlike the other dream that had a baby in it, in this one I was positive that this baby was my baby. And it was, in fact, a girl. And it had a name, I’m pretty sure. The name I remember calling her in the dream was one that I like, but that is very close to my own name–like, the same first few letters. And I just don’t think my ego is large enough to give my daughter a variation of my name.
  • Plus, we’d have the same nickname, and there’s no good in that, since my nickname is the name everyone uses for me, anyway.**
  • I’m concerned that working on this next chapter is going to make me want to do more fieldwork. I just don’t think I have enough data to support this chapter. The thing is, I don’t really have anything else to back it up, either…Let’s see if I can explain this with an analogy. Let’s say that the group that I’m writing my dissertation on does this thing where they race chickens. Most other groups that are like them don’t race chickens, and they’re a small-ish and not-so-studied group, so there’s absolutely no scholarly research on chicken-racing. There’s some discussion by people within the group about chicken racing, and that’s good, but there’s not much, and it will only get me so far. There’s another group that’s in the same (large, not sub-) genre as my group, but much, much, much larger (one might say, world-dominating), and they do a thing where they race…let’s say, giraffes. Chicken-racing bears on ly a vague similarity to giraffe-racing; in a way, the first is self-consciously modeled on the second, but they’re very, very different. I’m worried that the only way to discuss chicken-racing (the subject of this chapter) is by talking about how it’s NOT like giraffe-racing. But I don’t think that’s very theoretically sound (for a lot of reasons, but I’ll let you off the hook and not tell you what they are, since I’m sure you’re already confused). I have some data on chicken-racing; I’ve seen a few, and I have transcripts of other races. But I just don’t have much to go on.
  • Ow. That last one gave me a headache. And I really do have to go buy some groceries…dammit! I’m still in my pajamas! Okay. Enough randomness for now.
  • ETA: Actually, I checked. There are almost 20,000 hits on Google for “chicken racing” (uh, with the real term, I mean.) So, yeah, people in the group like to talk about it. Does this help me? I’m thinking not so much.

*Don’t even get me started on the phrase “gender determination.” The ultrasound can determine the sex. The gender isn’t determined until much later, and I am not going to participate in the gendering of the kid before it’s even born.

**Except for those of you who call me by completely different names that sound somewhat similar but just, really, aren’t. (Hi, Skycat & Yogini!)

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