Yesterday V. came for a sleepover due to the extreme heat. She doesn’t have AC installed at home yet, and even though she took precautions months ago, AC installers are in high demand and they could only install it after the summer. She slept in the spare bedroom at my new place (which I cleaned yesterday, I had been using it for storage and the bed as a makeshift closet.

V. is in her 16th week of pregnancy, and is understandably excited about the prospect of being a mother. She said something along the lines of “I can’t believe there’s people who choose not to do this, to carry life within you, being pregnant is a miracle we shouldn’t miss” and I said there’s about 50% of the population who will never experience pregnancy and we don’t feel like we would be missing out on anything. I should be less of a doozer.

We also spoke about work. I rarely speak about my job, when I tell people I work at an invoicing company their eyes turn watery and they change the subject. I love this because it’s not a topic for new acquaintances. She told me she had to fire someone for the first time in her life, and other office drama, while I told her about my recent performance review and how I’ve settled in after an initial struggle re-learning how to ride the horse of full-time employment.

I also told V. that, as I was walking home from work, I wondered how would I feel if I was to be a father and anxiety took over immediately. I’d be freaking out. “It’s wonderful that you are so calm and enthusiastic about the prospect” I said.

In the morning we had breakfast together and then each left for their office to work, and here I am sitting writing this.