kerouac says

i know we should be patient; it's not even the due date yet. i know i should be doing some of the stuff that needs doing; we're about to get crazy busy. it's irresponsible, really.

the emotional component of this is just as ambiguous as the physical one. i can tell i want the next exciting thing to happen, but there's no way we're actually ready, so . . . where does that leave you?

i can't wait to meet him, but once i do, everything's different. everything is different.

the monkey just mentioned, pensively, that around this time last year we were waiting in much the same way at his father's deathbed. please let it happen, i'm not ready for it to happen, what will happen when it happens, how will we go on? except this is also completely different. and it's boring, and it's tiring, and it's scary. i haven't slept well in a while. my back hurts. i can't tell if anything's progressing. i don't feel like doing anything, even though i'm bored. if i watch any more bad teevee, i'm onna scream.

i'm looking forward to my parents getting here. distraction. perspective. newness. and then, a baby.