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Friday 3 August 2001
I just got back from dropping off my business
cards to be printed out with shiny, waxy ink on to lovely
grainy card. Yes - I know I have been freelancing a fair while
now (almost a year
in fact) and a business card is something that should be high
up on a freelancer's to-do list, but there have been other
things to-do.
However, today I am trying to fill in time
while I wait for some kind of news from Small who is currently
barricaded up in the labor ward of her hospital - no information
can get in or out. Special-K and I are taking it in turns
to call the hospital every two hours to carefully spell her
name to someone on patient information who then says "no
- no information yet". I am sending many good, strengthening
vibes in the hospital's direction. Special-K is going to go
down after work on the off chance of catching a pacing family
member in the waiting room to get at least a glimmer of news.
Girl? Boy? Mother OK? Father OK?
So I walked back home up Burwood Road past
all the furniture shops and through the sunshine and thought
about how wonderful it is that they are having a baby... and
how did we all get to this age so fast? I can still picture
us clearly all watching Kent play in a band with my then boyfriend
at a pokey little folk club out in the Eastern suburbs. Our
friend Marnold and I suggested to Small, who sat beside us
at a rickety table adorned with folky smokey coloured candles,
that Kent would be Small's type of guy. This was followed
by an orchestrated, awkward first date and here we are 9 years
later about to become (self-appointed) fairy godmothers. link
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