babies and kittens...and bread.

Yoga pants are the most comfortable things ever. I wish I could wear them every day. I guess I could, but I'd probably start to look frumpy.

I had this dream last night that I was pregnant. I went and had an ultrasound, and there were 4 babies. The pregnancy must have progressed quickly because then all of a sudden I had them. I had two girls and two boys. I was trying to breastfeed and I was freaking out because I didn't have enough milk to go around. But it was okay, because they would turn into kittens during the day while I was at work and didn't have to eat every 2 hours.

Creepy.

Speaking of kittens....my kitty likes to lay on my tummy more and more lately. Enjoy that while it lasts, Monster.

I went out to dinner tonight with coworker and coworker's sister-in-law to talk about planning co-worker's baby shower. Our waitress, for some reason, seemed very attached to me. Like, after I asked her to bring me some bread and ginger ale while I waited for the other two to arrive, we developed this secret bond and the way she talked to me, it seemed like she just wanted to give me a great big hug but was holding back. I'm really confused. This happened to me the last time I was at this place. I happened to be sitting in the same exact booth, but I had a different waitress. It must have something to do with their training....either that, or they are former Starbucks employees and are still in Starbucks mode. When I worked there, we had to always have conversations with people and act like we knew (or at least cared to hear) their life story. Truth is, we never really cared. We just didn't want you to get upset when your half-caf grande soy extra foam caramel macchiato took too long. Maybe if your order wasn't so ridiculous, you could have been on your way 2 minutes ago. I think maybe this waitress was so enamored with the fact that I'm pregnant that she didn't know how to control her emotions. I may have been the very first pregnant girl she has ever met. I should have explained to her that it really isn't a big deal. The only reason I even told her was because she looked at me weird when I asked for bread and ginger ale. I didn't want her to think I was a freak. She asked me if I had thought of names and if I knew whether it was a boy or girl. No, and no. It's way too early for that. I really wish I'd never said anything. I should have just let her think I was a freak who wanted carbs and soda. Coworker and coworker's sister-in-law found it awkward, I think. Oh well. I should have passed the torch onto coworker by saying, "Ask her, she's way more pregnant than I am." I'm not showing. That's not baby. That's just bloat. Right now my baby is the size of a blueberry. Hardly anything to write home about.


By the way, I realize this is the first time I've come right out and said it. I think that people have suspected it all along but haven't really wanted to say anything to me. I don't know how else anyone would explain the fact that I'm complaining of nausea all the time. It was either that or some weird parasite. Like on that show, Monsters Inside Of Me. Or better yet, I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant. I should have done that. I should have let this go on for months and months until I gave birth and then finally said, "Well, that explains it, I guess." I'm honestly hesitant to come right out and tell people because of what happened last time. Not that it would make a difference, but it was really hard last time when I lost the baby and had to undo the whole thing. We were going to wait until after the first appointment this time. That's next week Friday. I'm not going to be concerned. I think that most people who read this either don't know me at all, or they're my friends who already know. Some people already know anyway.

Today was cookie day at work. We got paid to sit around for 30 minutes and eat cookies and drink cider. It was wonderful.

I'm really tired. If I hadn't gone to dinner tonight, I would have gone to bed at 6pm. I've been doing that more and more lately. It's now 8pm and I feel like it's way past my bedtime. I'm so lame.

My blogs have been boring lately. It's because I feel boring. All I want to do is sleep. So, maybe it's my subconscious attempt to put you to sleep as well. Things will pick up soon. Promise.

A few things before I go:

Tomorrow is spelled like that. Tomorrow. There is no 'A' in it.

Stop posting pictures of you drinking. I am not able to have any alcohol for...well, a heck of a long time now. So stop taunting me with your cute glasses of fizzy stuff with lime on the side. Just shut up with your smiling pictures of you and your drink that I can't share.

I'm tired all the time. If you call me, I probably won't answer because I am sleeping. Or I am seriously too tired to talk, to anyone. Unless you have a solution for my upset stomach. Asking me to do anything for you is a lot to ask. Anything. No matter what it is. Just save your requests for sometime in February.

But if you want to bring me something with Nutella on it, I'll eat it and have a conversation with you. But then you have to leave afterward.

My brother is coming home soon. I'm excited.

I don't like the smell of onions.

Toy Story 3 made me cry. A lot of things make me cry lately.

I almost vomited at the grocery store, in aisle 5. But I didn't. Because there was a child sitting in one of those shopping carts that looked like a car. I didn't want to traumatize him.