Tick Tick Tick Tick.
I feel like a prisoner on death row. It's happening. There's no avoiding it.
It's 2:31 in the morning. I can't sleep. And it makes me wonder how death row inmates have any appetite for that last meal, because I feel like I'm going to puke.
And I'm not dying! I *only* have to deal with my FIL. (P.S. Which adds to my stress and guilt, because really in all sanity I have no right comparing my situation to losing your life, yet here I am doing it. Sigh...)