Oh. Muh. Gawd. I am SO weary. I have a trial and four motions due this week. Fortunately, 2.5 motions are done...as is the research on the third. AND I am the on-call ADA this week, which means that I have to be available via cell phone 24/7 to every cop in southwest Alaska AND handle weekend arraignments. NOT TO MENTION that the FEE's litterbox needs to be changed, garbage needs to be taken out, I need to iron shirts for trial, and bread must be baked. I wish I could get baked...or at least moderately tipsy. But I don't think that's going to happen...at least not until next year sometime (the tipsy part...I've never been much interested in getting baked). Ah well...I guess I'll quit bitching now.
As for the BOY, he's getting bigger. I know this because it's starting to hurt when he kicks/punches/flops around. Seeing as how I still have at least 3 months of pregnancy remaining, this does not bode well for me. At all. I fear for myself. And my innards.
Braxton Hicks contractions are becoming more frequent...I think mostly because I've been focusing on work so much, I haven't really been drinking as much water as I do normally (dehydration supposedly exacerbates Braxton Hicks). I was thinking last night that I don't know how cool it would be to have a type of contraction named after you. Seems kind of dubious...like having a wart named after you. Or a type of bowel movement. I think that if it were me, I would pass on this particular class of tributes...( :<
I will close by saying that events occuring around me over the past week make me VERY, VERY, VERY grateful that I am still emotionally stable despite this pregnancy and its accompanying hormones, even in the face of my very demanding job, my very demanding and anal-retentive cat, and my various and sundry complications. I can only hope this continues throughout the remainder of the pregnancy and after the birth...I have heard things about post-partum depression that are not encouraging. Like the news stories about the mothers who toss their babies in dumpsters. Or drown them. People can be scary that way. I'd rather not go there...ever.
I love sugar-coated popcorn, though. I think I may have to go dredge some up...the FEE can wait until tomorrow for her clean litterbox. (:
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2 comments:
I wish we lived closer to each other so you could call me and bitch and moan in person, with all kinds of creative and awful facial expressions, and I'd be struck by your plight and immediately rush over to your house in a fit of fervent friendship and bake, iron, clean and carry for you.
I would, too.
E.
Think of ya :) And just think this job is Waayyyyyyyyyyyyy BETTER than the last. :):):)
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