My twin sister is stopping by the office with her baby tomorrow, on their way to Brooklyn from New Hampshire. I am excited beyond all reason. I get to show my little niece to all of my work-friends, as if to say, "Hey look at what a pretty baby I'd make, if I had, you know, a husband and a more stable living situation! Ha ha! No, really, I'm looking forward to going home tonight to my bachelorette's apartment and my cat. This is just where I wanted to be at 32!"

I kid, I kid. My personal female-role-enforcing demons are fond of poking at me occasionally, but I'm trying to ignore them and just live my life. It's a pretty good one. I will say, though, that non-twins don't really understand the subconscious comparisons that constantly occur between my sister and me. It can be a lot of pressure, even though we've discussed, aloud, the pros and cons of our current, differing lifestyles.

Anyway, who needs a baby anyway? They need constant attention, they drool a lot, and they stink sometimes. Stupid babies.