Could this BE any more stream-of-consciousness?

My friend, Hannah (she sometimes comments on the blog), had her baby yesterday! A little girl, and she's just adorable. I'd gotten a text from Hannah at 9:30 in the morning saying she was at the hospital, but then I didn't hear anything about the results until this morning, at which point I was chewing my fingers off and tearing out my hair worrying that something went wrong. Why can't I just relax and trust that things went well? Why do I always start envisioning people falling down wells when I know for a fact that they're safe and sound in a hospital? The anxiety center in my brain must be about twice the normal size...along with the Skittles center and the disco-loving neurons. Interestingly enough, I believe my liver is only half the normal size because I've never had a high alcohol tolerance. Did I ever tell you guys about the time I drank 4 beers in college (I was 21, let me assure you) and woke up on my dorm room bed with projectile vomit all over the wall? Charming, I know. Wait, where was I going with this? Right, babies. Congratulations, Hannah! I'll stop talking about puke now...except, just let me say that my work shirt is covered in spit-up this morning because Lil J let me have it right before we left. The kid's got moxie.