We got up before the sun did this morning to drive to the sperm bank in the Very Big City. This is JJ’s third trip there.
I can appreciate that Very Big Cities have wonderful museums, performing arts centers, libraries, international restaurants, zoos, and other marvels, all of which I think are amazing. However, I hate Very Big Cities. I hate people and buildings everywhere, and the frantic pace, and the aggressive attitudes, and the awful traffic. This morning there was an accident, which we never saw, somewhere ahead of us that caused traffic to back up for miles and miles. We and hundreds of thousands of others slowed to a crawl and sometimes to a stop. At one point, a pickup started to move left into our lane. He almost sideswiped us. I sort of screamed. “Don’t ever, ever scream while I am driving,” EJ said. Yeah, right, how can a person not scream when she sees death approaching? A scream is not always a conscious act. All the time we were in the clutches of the Very Big City, I felt like this:
We have only one more trip to the sperm bank in the Very Big City–on Thursday–and then maybe we will never have to go there again. I hope not. I am so completely a small town girl.
My guys curled up on couch and chair and napped as soon as we got home. I quickly prepared lunch and then also tried to nap, but I only slightly dozed.
Tomorrow we have to get up early again. JJ has surgery to put his port in at 9 a.m. EST. Tonight is going to be a long ordeal because he is dreading it so much. The drive to the hospital might also be an ordeal if we get the freezing rain that I’ve heard is possible.