Gwenna (St. Joseph Real Estate Magic, #3) (eBook, ePUB)
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The first big 0 birthday is a goal. The second big 0 is still anticipated but once you reach the third big 0 birthday, there's not a lot of time between that and the big FOUR 0. Gwenna worked with women trying to cram their life, their career, and their last chances at motherhood into a tiny little pocket of years. Obstetrics was not an easy specialty. More women wanted babies and fewer doctors wanted to do the slow work of baby making in the narrow window of time available.Gwenna's life had become a treadmill--a lot of motion to stay in place, and fatigue. A big sleep deficit that could be cu...
The first big 0 birthday is a goal. The second big 0 is still anticipated but once you reach the third big 0 birthday, there's not a lot of time between that and the big FOUR 0. Gwenna worked with women trying to cram their life, their career, and their last chances at motherhood into a tiny little pocket of years. Obstetrics was not an easy specialty. More women wanted babies and fewer doctors wanted to do the slow work of baby making in the narrow window of time available.
Gwenna's life had become a treadmill--a lot of motion to stay in place, and fatigue. A big sleep deficit that could be cured by moving from her house in the suburbs to a place closer to her office and her clinic. It wasn't going to happen. Where was the time to pack up the old and search out the new? A little porcelain saint's statue was not going to change things. She took a large spoon from the pot rack over the kitchen counter, blew the dust off it, and planted the statue in the flower bed by the kitchen door.
Nothing happened. Nothing portended. She should probably dig up the silly statue and leave it at the hospital for people who believed those things. She could do that tomorrow, when she wasn't so tired.
Gwenna's life had become a treadmill--a lot of motion to stay in place, and fatigue. A big sleep deficit that could be cured by moving from her house in the suburbs to a place closer to her office and her clinic. It wasn't going to happen. Where was the time to pack up the old and search out the new? A little porcelain saint's statue was not going to change things. She took a large spoon from the pot rack over the kitchen counter, blew the dust off it, and planted the statue in the flower bed by the kitchen door.
Nothing happened. Nothing portended. She should probably dig up the silly statue and leave it at the hospital for people who believed those things. She could do that tomorrow, when she wasn't so tired.
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