I suppose I can see a light. It's dim. Far away. Still, I see it.
No, not of the end of the pregnancy. The end of "THE SHOTS". I got one today and my last one is next week.
Not a minute to soon.
I'm too tired to be funny. Witty is far beyond my abilities right now. I'm wondering if I can talk MotH into brushing my teeth for me.
Have I mentioned how I hate these things?
The side-effects seem to be ramping up, not reducing. Makes it hard to get stuff done.
MotH keeps harping on me to get my bag packed. Isn't it enough that I've bought most of the stuff to pack?
No, apparently it's not. I think he's afraid he'll be forced to find my breast pads and bring the bag to the hospital for me. You know, because someone might think HE'S breastfeeding. *rolling eyes*
Of course after some of the clothing he bought me when I was in the hospital last time, I should be the one afraid. I ask you, how many pairs of biking shorts does a pregnant woman need?
The nursery letters are still sitting on my dining room table (recently relocated back to the dining room from the kitchen table). I got them repainted (turns out there was no black in the nursery bedding, so I had to do an emergency re-paint). They still need brackets attached to the back before MotH can hang them.
I figure he won't be in his room right away, so I've got some time.
Okay, I just ran out of what little steam I still had. So long. Farewell. Auf Wiedersehen, adieu (yes, I had to look it up).
2 years ago