The 1,000,000,000 square sudoku puzzle

I can, with about a 95% success rate, tell you exactly what my father is doing right now.

A sudoku puzzle.

Well. Either that or out on a walk or cleaning the house. But when it comes to relaxing, I guarantee you, my dad will pull a book from his stack of countless sudoku books.

Looking in the mirror this morning, 39 hours away from Seth's arrival, I find my life lining up just like one of those little numbered boxes that manage to stump me nearly every time.

For the next 11 days, Seth and I will embark on what can only be described as baptism by fire into the land that is my life. He'll meet my best friends, my old classmates, my brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, mom and dad. I'll even throw in an old flame or two. Likely my childhood librarian as well.

I suppose I can refrain from introducing him to the man that delivered me. You've got to draw the line somewhere.

I'm not so worried about how the actual meet n' greets are going to go-- I have faith that my friends and family know how much Seth means to me and vice versa. It's more or less how it's all going to come together in the end-- where everything and everyone is going to fit in the ginormous sudoku puzzle that seems to have become my life.

If only I was bold enough to tackle those puzzles with black pen instead of with a hearty #2 pencil and eraser.