Le blog, c'est ici

Mais aussi, le bebe, c'est still dans ma stomach ou, more correctly, dans ma uterus, dans moi skin.

We have a week to go. Apparently the baby is doing everything right, which means its arse is on my left side and its furiously pummelling legs and arms are going for it on my right. I don't know what vital organs it is having a go at, but I hold grave fears for useful things like my spleen, appendix and phlange.

Apart from being heavily pregnant, things are pretty peachy. The shop is a great deal of fun, because it is full of pretty things and pretty people, who are all surprisingly lovely. I suppose they're the clever clogses who do their Christmas shopping nice and early, and in a week we'll get the stress bunnies, like me, who leave it all til the last minute.

I officially go on maternity leave on Sunday (I pulled the date out of nowhere). I'm allowed an overseeing role, I believe. This means I get to be quite bossy, but not do any real work, I'm looking forward to it. It is a strange thing to be self-employed and be letting myself go on maternity leave. I'm not arguing with myself though, if that is what the boss orders, who am I to question her?

Little else to report. Work dominates, my legs are still GROSS, and I'm still sober.