My phone makes a text message noise.

I check, but it’s just a friend inquiring about getting together soon.

I wait another 30 minutes and then wonder if maybe I forgot to turn the volume up on the alerts after the baby’s nap.

Still nothing.

Barack Obama, I am waiting for you. I want to know your pick for VP, and I want it to be EB. Evan Bayh, that is.

The suspense is killing me — and my work ethic. Even the baby has grown nervous as we sit here glued to CNN, surfing the Internet for silly tidbits of information from Washington.

I know this will all be over in the next few days, and then we can focus on the election in November, but for the time being, the wanting to know is driving me crazy.

Ooooh, gotta run. I think I just heard another text come in.