Dear Mr. Doctor Man,
Please tell me at my appointment this morning that there is nothing wrong with my and having ultrasounds was just a waste of time. I don’t mind having my time wasted, as long as there’s nothing wrong with me.
Right now, I’m more than certain that if you came tomorrow, I’ll have everything I need, except cake. And my dress, unless it magically appeared on my doorstep fitted and ready to go.
I’m excited for you to get here, but I’m not excited to have four of you again. This is starting to be too much.
Dear Job #1,
Please work out in my favour. (I’d tell you more, but I don’t want to jinx myself!)
What are your letters for the day?