I could not fall asleep last night. It wasn't Owen's fault; I just kept wondering whether my neighbour--who is due to deliver any day now--was having contractions. And then I started having sympathy discomfort (not quite pain) that I think might have been initially provoked by eating a large bowl of Breyer's vanilla ice cream straight after gobbling an entire Chipotle burrito. (Hey, I was hungry, and who doesn't need some ice cream when they have a sore throat?)
So, not able to sleep, all the night sounds began to bother me. Repeatedly, a bird (or dog or small child?) whined, and then the nonpregnant residents of another neighboring home cranked up the ethnotunes from Africa. The music wasn't too bad; it just served to remind me that some, hipper people were still enjoying themselves at 10 pm on a Saturday.
This tossing and turning lasted until I just plain wore myself out.
And today it is my birthday.