Ohhhhh. Ohhhhh. Ohhhhhhhh. Pooooor meeeeeee. Whine, whine, whine.
Surprise! I feel like crap again today! It is very, very difficult to work when one feels like crap. We’re doing co-worker assessments this week and next week. My foggy brain stares at the names of the co-workers I'm supposed to be assessing and thinks, "Now, who is that person?"
Weird. And now it's time for ...
The Morning Quease Update (MQU)!
I really think it might be a relief to throw up. I know, the pregnancy books all say it doesn’t help, but still … it’s just miserable, walking around with this constant feeling that you’re going to gag up your breakfast.
So far, only two things have made me gag to the point that I actually hurried to the bathroom (but didn’t throw up): the smell of coffee, and the thought of licking an envelope. I have no desire at all for coffee. Not even decaf. I didn’t even go to the coffee shop yesterday afternoon. I think that might be a first.
Envelope-licking generally isn’t a very pleasant activity anyway. Sheltowee and I were signing our tax forms this morning, and I saw that gummy licky stuff on the envelope fold, and the very thought of licking it had me up and to the bathroom before you could say “lickety tax.” Blech.
Cravings? Nothing yet. I say that even though I’ve been craving orange juice, pineapple juice, pomegranate juice, and just about any other fruit juice out there. I even got a CapriSun at the coffee shop this morning. I don't even like CapriSun. But I don’t think the "fruity-juice" craving is a pregnancy craving because I generally crave fruity-juicy things anyway. I hope I don't start needing a CapriSun every day. That stuff is nasty. (But it tasted pretty good this morning.)
What else? Sheltowee and I both think it’s funny that I’ve barely touched the Kashi Cinnamon Harvest Cereal I bought last week. Generally a box of that stuff doesn’t survive three days in my presence.
Now, on to what seems to be my favorite pregnancy topic:
The Burgeoning Milk Factory!
My boobs are busting out (pun intended) of my 34C bra, so I guess I’ll need to go bra-shopping soon. I need new sports bras, too. And some new shirts. I generally like to wear slightly fitted, size-small t-shirts. Now that the girls are morphing from grapefruits to cantaloupes, those small t-shirts aren’t working so well. I wore an Ohio State t-shirt the other day, and the wording on the front looked like this:
OK, maybe it wasn’t that bad. But it was tight.
So I feel bloated and sick and big-bruised-boobied and exhausted out of my mind. I am so looking forward to the general wife-spoilage Sheltowee will grace me with tonight.