Hot.

I've been wearing tank tops, skirts and sandals to work this week. I figured I'd wear this stuff now before the air conditioning really kicks in at work and I'm freezing. Then, I'll bust out the short-sleeved tops and pants again. Turns out... the air IS on full blast. People have been coming to my cube in sweaters, pants and, yes, even jackets claiming it's, "freezing in here!"
What the hell am I going to do now? This is insane.
I spent the past weekend killing myself. As you can see, I didn't quite complete that task either.
Saturday I went to the Three Acres School yard sale (happens twice a year). Some bargains and 2.5 hours later, L and I relaxed and caught up on family news. We then decided to take the conversation to a place that served food while we talked. Dots Back Inn. Home by 2:30PM and ready for a nap. But, oh no! I can't take a nap! So, I put on my shorts and raked the yard... why not? I'm only a lollipop that's supposed to be taking it easy. So I later did, I sat on my ass... in the car. I went to D&C's to borrow some tools, Sears for a lawn mower (ours died) and Ukrop's for dinner items.
Sunday was worse. Well, successful (we accomplished lots!) but not at all "relaxing" like a Sunday should be. We woke up and walked K&E's dog, went to Lowe's for more supplies (Rob's working on the brick patio! Yippee!), I potted purple flowers in my new pots, and I later scrubbed the entire back porch with a sponge and a bucket of Murphey's soapy water (Why the hell not? Mold & dirt came back after 3 years of neglect and I'm PREGNANT so why not get on a ladder and hand scrub the entire interior wood trim work? I'm an absolute idiot. And now, an idiot with a back ache from hell.)
I think I'm reaching the point of realizing my days are numbered. More importantly, the weekends are numbered. If I rattle off the various activities that await me these last few months, from baby showers to a bridal shower to visiting my folks one last time in Greensboro, the already numbered weekends get even fewer. *Gulp*. And maybe I'm still not quite yet realizing the time crunch.Maybe, instead, I'm trying to still plan ahead for when it does hit me. The inevitable, "Oh my God! We're having a baby in month!" Cause, the reality is, I'm NOT going to want to be physical, in any way shape or form, that last month. I'm not going to want to be moving book shelves, rearranging furniture, setting up a crib and hand mopping the nursery floor... so I gotta start doing that now. And hell, I don't want to do any of that now so I better avoid it by going out on the back porch and scrubbing mold cause that's way more important on my shit-list of things to have done before baby.
Its a rat race in my head these days.
I've noticed that in my pregnancy books it recommends not crossing your legs to keep your feet from swelling. But what the hell do you do when you are wearing a skirt or dress? Show the world this is how I got into the mess to bgein with? By not sitting ladylike? In any case, I'm noticing more and more how difficult it is to even try and cross my legs when sitting. It's like cinching up a bag of water... the cinch just wants to untwist and let it all hang out. My belly and baby hate being tightened up a bit more. I'm looking less and less sophisticated these days.
I've also been watching Evie move. I can sit here and watch my stomach blurb outward to the side as she flops over to get into a more comfortable spot. Its wierd. At first I thought it was wild and cool. Now it kinda creeps me out. There's a freaking human in there!!! Oh my God people, what they hell was I thinking getting pregnant? This fun little biology experiment is REAL. There really is a human... a person... in...my...body. JC, this is blowing my mind. Its kind of scaring me a bit, too. Its only getting bigger and there's only one exit.
I walk into things with my belly now, too. I bump counters, sinktops and doors. Everytime I leave the company restroom, there's a big water spot on my shirt where my belly flopped onto the sink counter. Its fantastic. I can see where I'm quickly exiting the "Oh-you're-so-cute-with-your-belly" stage and entering that not-at-all glorious "Holy Shit You're Pregnant! Get out of the WAY!" pregnancy stage. *Sigh* Next stop, ...cankles and hemmeroids. Great.