Tomorrow, I finally go to Des Moines to meet with the people with whom I'll be doing MRI scanning. Finally figure out what the price-tag is going to be. My go-between shifts jarringly from being competent to never answering email or forgetting small things, like what the Medicare rate for an hour's worth of scan time actually is. Which is important, because the final sticker price of 60 subjects could be between 40,000 to 80,000 when all is said and done.

Garion has enjoyed my company much more recently. He gets so excited when I come home now, calling out that daddy is home. Sure, that is sometimes followed by yay, he can watch a video now, but it's nice that he's swung back to considering me as more than an organic ornament that occasionally makes noises and kisses.

Lack of sex has troubled me. I tell myself and have been told it is because nursing can kill sex-drive. I am not so certain anymore. I am less certain about why this has bothered me recently. Perhaps I am afraid that the marriage will devolve from it's currently comfortable, semi-frequently mildly barbed state to something more difficult. I don't know. First marriage I've ever been in. Kinda new to this still.

Still waiting to hear back about whether or not I've gotten my training grant. Put on list for funding and final approval. Was supposed to know in late February. Sent email last week. No reply. I will wait until it's been a full week before pestering the program officer again.

A lot of things are in limbo. I am used to this state. I do not like this state, but I am such a frequent business traveler that I have a complementary lemon placed on my pillow every time I check in.

The lemon reads: "make what you will of me."

Make of that what you will.

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