coffee

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Who knew a cup of decaf coffee could be so conspicuous?

Early this morning I had blood drawn at Dr. Roberts’ office.  On the way home, Michael and I stopped for a proper breakfast at Rise and Dine.  Before we drove to Midtown I could barely choke down half a yogurt and a piece of toast, but I managed to eat half my eggs, most of my bacon, and all four little pancakes I ordered.  And one cup of conspicuous decaf coffee.  They had to brew it for me.  I was the only one in the whole restaurant with a red coffee cup…and come to think of it, I can’t recall ever seeing anyone else with a red coffee cup, either.  I suppose decaf isn’t so popular in Emory Village.

I’ve been quite tired, still feeling strange.  I tried to watch the second half of The Parallax View, but I fell asleep on the couch.  The nurse at Dr. Roberts’ office woke me with a phone call saying our hCG levels have risen appropriately.  She also scheduled an ultrasound in two weeks, on May 27, our two-year wedding anniversary.  What a lovely present that will be, if things are all okay.  I’m not even sure what they can see or hear at a six-weeks, or six-and-a-half weeks.  I suppose I’ll find out.

Michael should be home in a few hours.  I’m looking forward to that.  He is so adorable and gleeful and supportive and just wonderful, and I’m so glad I married him.  I’m glad every day already, I mean–I already was glad–but I am even more happy now, seeing him so happy, wondering what we’ve gotten ourselves into together.  Whatever it is, I’m glad I’m with him.  And don’t you forget, Mixtape, we’re glad you’re here with us.

 

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