Dear Diary. It's Sunday. I'm in the hospital. The hospital is a strange place on a Sunday. It's mainly empty. The odd cleaner's walking around. The waiting room is empty.

The last time I was here was two weeks ago when Girlfriend was worried because her vagina was bleeding. We brought a suitcase and a bag with us to the hospital; in case this was the birth. They made me wait in a waiting room while they did foetal monitoring on Girlfriend. I was in that waiting room for an hour not knowing what was happening to Girlfriend. For all I knew, maybe she'd already given birth. No one came to tell me anything, the wait would have been extremely boring except I brought a book with me. That made the hour in the waiting room bearable, even enjoyable. Always reading the book when a midwife called me into the birthing area. She said that everything was fine, the bleeding was normal and that the labour had begun. But because Girlfriend was only one centimetre dilated it was best to go home. So I had taken the suitcase and the bag with me to the nurse's office. So, now I had to take them back home again. That was almost two weeks ago.

Girlfriend is almost two weeks overdue. We're at the hospital for a routine check-up. The midwife said that Girlfriend is booked for induction two days from now, but Girlfriend is so fed up with being pregnant that she's going to try to persuade the midwife to start the induction today. I had to wait in the waiting room again for an hour while they hooked Girlfriend up to the foetal monitoring machine again. Thankfully, I brought a book with me again otherwise waiting would be intolerably boring. Then Girlfriend came out and joined me in the waiting room and we waited another good 20 minutes for a doctor to see Girlfriend. This is nothing compared to the time we were living in Cork. Girlfriend was pregnant and she had a urine infection. The cure for a urine infection is simple: antibiotics. But we had to go to the hospital to get them because she was pregnant and the antibiotics could complicate the pregnancy or something. So got to the hospital. The midwife there told us that yes, Girlfriend would need antibiotics, BUT she couldn't prescribe them because she wasn't a doctor. So had to wait there to see a doctor. The midwife, by the way, didn't tell us that the doctor wasn't even there yet; she didn't start her shift until seven hours later. If she'd told us, we could have left and come back. Luckily, I had a Stephen King book to read. Girlfriend wasn't so lucky; she only had Candy Crush to keep her occupied. There's only so much candy you can crush before boredom overwhelms you. Finally, the doctor came in at 7 pm at the start of her shift.

My get-rich-quick scheme isnqt going too well. I planned to make a new book every week to sell on Amazon but I've been going at a slow pace and at the moment I'm making a book every month. Maybe a book a month sounds impressive but it's not, I'm just reusing the same content just with different covers. Some of the books don't even sell. So I can spend, like weeks making a book for an exam and that doesn't sell any copies. And it doesn't seem to be any way of telling in advance which ones are going to sell and which ones are not. Still, I'm making enough money to live off at the moment. I hoped that I could be a millionaire in five years, but at this rate, it's going to be more like 500 years.