I love scarves. I love my glasses. I love Miss C. Logically, this was bound to happen eventually:
Forgive me, my child, for from here on out, we are in the embarrassing photo zone. God help us all.
My energy level hit an all-time low today. And by “energy” level I also mean “motivation to do anything other than eat pudding out of old Cool-Whip containers, watch PBS, and feel sorry for myself” level. Ergo, rather than compile any cohesive thoughts, I just thought I’d hit you up bullet-point style with some random thoughts from my 37 week pregnant mind.
- This winter has been a complete flop. Seriously, don’t think it didn’t cross my mind a few times when I found out in July that I was pregnant that I would be suffering the most sweat-inducing months of my pregnancy in frosty winter style. It is going to be 85 degrees tomorrow and I am irate. Mega. I’m not going to buy any more maternity clothes this late in the game, which means I am relegated to wearing my husband’s pajamas as real clothes when I leave the house tomorrow. This saddens me more than I can properly express. And thus I return to my Cool-Whip containers of pudding.
- I think I could become a professional Scrabble player if I really put my mind to it. Actually probably not but it’s a nice thought. I like doing crossword puzzles, so I packed a NY Times book to take to the hospital. I think I am also deluding myself in thinking that I’ll be doing puzzles when I’m in labor. More likely I’ll just want to be stabbing myself. The book I selected for the hospital bag is spiral bound and maybe I subconsciously chose this book for the very reason that I can somehow wield the wire into a torturous device for either myself or others in the room.
- I’m sad to say that hating on Pinterest seems to be coming to a close. I like to think that I was among the first wave of backlash on this popular site, even though people were likely already crapping all over it before I even knew it existed. Don’t get me wrong; I still dislike it, but being a sad hipster sympathizer (do I even need to qualify that as “sad?” Probs not.), I also feel that since so many people have now gone on the record as saying that they dislike it too, I have to find something more obscure to dislike. I would ask for suggestions but then on what basis could I get uppity?
Pin this, sucka.
- This may come as no surprise, but I generally don’t like being pregnant anymore. It’s generally miserable. Actually it is acutely miserable, but having so little time left in this situation I’d rather not dwell on it too much. Feel free to invite me to, though, in the comments section. I’ll take any opportunity afforded me to be indulged.
- I kept a file on every class I took all the way through college and graduate school. They include notes, papers, tests, and pretty much every shred of paper pertaining to every class I took. They are now all kept on a shelf above our washing machine. There is something mildly poetic and melancholy about that, although as of yet I can’t quite pinpoint what it is. Or maybe I’m just reading “mildly poetic and melancholy” when it’s actually just an example of me as a burgeoning hoarder. These two things are really quite similar so it’s kind of difficult to separate them.
Until next time, keep it real, yo.