The incedibly mundane and rare ramblings of Benji

So, in our society, one is expected to work, to contribute, to produce. Should someone expect any kind of fulfillment from this? Or should getting paid be enough? How do we determine who gets paid how much for what job? Does it reflect difficulty, community values, media reach of different professions? And what about volunteers, surely they are seeking a kind of fulfilment that cannot be provided by paid work. 'What is my point?', you may be asking. I'm sick of this. I need to do something challenging or fulfilling, preferably both. But its hard when you're over thirty with a family to feed. I need to do a big amount of self examining, and figure out what I'm doing with my life, professionally speaking, soon. I say by the end of next weekend. If I publicly set a deadline, it is real and I have to do it. But I am sure I've said before, I don't want to be driving forklifts when I'm 40. If only because I'm not very good at it.

So, it is now public knowledge that my wife is pregnant, so I feel free to blog about the first 12 weeks of the process. Firstly, inconclusive pregnancy tests are a pain. The faintest of lines appearing at the end of the recommended wait time do nothing good for your anxiety over whether you've been successful or not. Doctors being jerks about it does not help either. It is also less than helpful when they test for everything on earth, except pregnancy hormone. What the hell are you keeping all that urine for creep? Anyway, that was the start of the journey for our future baby who I am going to name pancake, as that is the nicest name we've called it. The next step was an ultrasound. If I can impart only one thing I've learnt so far, let it be this. If you can at all avoid it, don't go for this ultrasound too early. Nothing in this world can make you feel as awful as the words blighted ovum, and that the pregnancy may not be viable. I don't know what the standard ...