Write four lines of prose about: guilt.
Didn't get to bed until almost three last... er, this morning, so I slept in until after ten. Kinda screws with your whole day when you do that.
Anyway, we're ready for another market tomorrow morning. And our decking is sitting beside our house, waiting for Kat's dad and I to descend upon them with hammers and screwdrivers and such.
Shortly after I pulled the car out of the driveway last night to take Kat to the hospital, she admitted to feeling guilty for dragging me along to have something checked that could very well turn out to be nothing. Never mind that it could also have been something very bad.
So I told her how I saw it: I would be perfectly happy if the whole trip turned out to be a total waste of time, because that would mean that both her and the baby were fine.