What is the deal with my going to the bathroom all the time? I thought that would come much later, when the baby was big enough to sit on my bladder. I know the people at work must think I’ve got a kidney infection. Or, in the case of Penelope, that I’m shooting up in the stall. I keep waiting for my name to be chosen for the paper’s “random” drug testing.

This frequent call-of-nature really is starting to get annoying. Just when I hit my stride on an article, or right in the middle of a phone interview, whoops, got to go. And it’s not like the restroom is right there by the newsroom. Uh-uh. I’ve got to walk all the way to the other end of the building.

I wonder what other treasures are in store for me over the next seven months?