D-Day +3 (and counting).
Holy crap, it’s been three days since our schnitzel was due, but it seems he’s holed himself up inside and we’re faced with a hostage crisis.
Someone get Denzel Washington on the line, we need a hostage negotiator extraordinaire to hopefully coax him out.
Not quite sure what his demands are, it’s hard to read his handwriting. And we also need an interpreter. Tell me, do phrenologists only read the bumps on people’s heads or can they also read the bumps on a pregnant woman’s stomach?
The waiting is excruciating. It’s worse than watching the Boxing Day Test, or queuing up at the DMV, or worse still…waiting for one line or two on the little pee stick. Wow, that seems like it was an eternity ago. Feels like my love has been pregnant…
A word associated with both James Bond and Batman, and god knows we could certainly use some secret Q gadgets and a utility belt about now.
If this keeps up, we’ll have to call him “GODOT“. Hopefully, he’ll get the show on the road before too long and we can put all this waiting for him behind us…and look forward to several years of waiting ON him instead.