You have (no) mail.

My inbox has been full for 5 years. Full of print ads, newspaper copy, old trade mags that I never got around to reading, thank-you cards, invitations, etc etc etc. I was saving it for a rainy day.

Today was that rainy day.

And now I have nothing to do.

And now that my inbox is empty, it proves to the passerby that I had time on my hands. Enough time to clean out an inbox. That’s a lot of time.

And there it sits.

Empty.

And here I sit.

With nothing to do.

Talk about make-work projects.

I’m re-writing a colleagues information package. And her job is extremely boring, so you can just bet how exciting the task-at-hand is for me.

Yawn.

But better than staring out the window. No, that wouldn’t go over very well. And I’m too scared to play on the internet after the article in the local paper last week about companies installing SpyWare to spy on their employees and the sites that they visit. So much for Facebook. So much for Blogger. So much for gmail, hotmail, yahoo mail. So much for Socialitelife. So much for redactedblog. And (egad) so much for overheardinnewyork.

Yes, yes. There’s always surfing from home. But by the time I get there, I’m absolutely exhausted and can’t even muster up the energy to turn the bloody thing on. It’s all I can do to crack a beer or pop a cork. Sometimes I’m even too tired to get out of my work clothes until I gather enough energy to go from couch to bedroom, usually around 10:30.

Perhaps I’ll tackle one of my filing cabinets and weed out unnecessries.

***
My OBGYN should be calling me later today to discuss test results. Not sure which ones; the extensive bloodwork I had, the bloodwork the Husband had, or the genetics from the baby. Or perhaps all of the above.

***
Went to The Rapist thismorning. Good news?

1. The only thing that’s wrong with me is grief.

2. I don’t have to see her again,unless I want to. Ie: next time I get pregnant, if I’m having a hard time with the fear again. And the shame.

3. Most importantly, what made my three visits all worth while: the baby did NOT feel any pain when he died. At 14 weeks, the nerves aren’t completely formed in it’s little brain, so it did not know it was dying, and it did not feel any pain.

(Bullshit. I think he knew he was dying, but he didn’t physically feel it. But that’s just me. That’s just what I believe. Or not. I don’t know.)

Oh God, here come the tears again.

Urs.