Well, not really.
More like, sitting at my desk minding my own business not being able to concentrate because everybody talks so frickin' loudly.
Excerpts from today's conversations include:
"How's your uterus?"
"Oh, it's full term. It's R-E-A-D-Y."
"Is it the hormones?"
"Totally. One minute I want sex, the next I want to cry, and the next I want to kill my husband. I guess I shouldn't say that last one so loudly."
"Are you still breastfeeding?"
"I'm trying. It's hard being at work full-time."
"When do you want to stop? When she's a year?"
"That's the plan. We'll see how my boobs are doing."
What happened to talking about what you're having for lunch? Or what your weekend plans were? I don't need to hear about your bedroom fantasies and nipple pads.