Yeah...

You know how sometimes you start to blog again after a long hiatus, and you're like, "This is the time! I'm going to update this regularly for sure!" And then you start watching Downton Abbey or taking Instagram pictures of your cats or whatever and then it's been 2 months and you realize you're a shitty blogger?

Yeah, that.


I had my last day of work exactly one week ago. It was bittersweet, it feels weird not to have a job and I miss seeing my coworkers all the time. Graduation the week before was even crazier, I was really close to this year's graduates and it meant a lot to watch them walk the stage. I'll miss them like crazy, believe it or not. Still, Anu and I knew from the start that we wanted me to stay at home for at least the first few years with kiddo, and I know we're really lucky to be able to afford that. I am enjoying being at home, but I still get wistful. In between naps, that is. You can't really nap in a nostalgic way.

So, I'm at home full time now. It's nice to be able to grocery shop in the morning when all those suckers with full time jobs are busy. The cats LOVE it when I'm home, they follow me around all day meowing and trying to get me to hold still for 5 seconds so they can pile up and sleep on me. Max in particular is having trouble remembering that he is not, in fact, a permanent attachment on my abdomen.

Pregnancy is still going alright, though I have officially entered the "Never comfortable- EVER." phase. Something about having a small watermelon camping out in my abdomen seems to have thrown all of my parts out of whack, go figure. Also, the watermelon is mobile and can only express itself through kicking. And hiccuping. And barrel rolls and elbowing. It's a high-maintenance watermelon. Here's Max and Molly doing impressions of me:

I've also lost ALL of my second trimester energy. Going to more than 3 places in one day leaves me passed out on the couch for hours, it's pretty pathetic. I feel bad for Anu, he's crazy busy at work and then he comes home to Blorpy McHippo on the couch trying to persuade him to spend the entire evening painting. Still, he gets to consume alcohol/bend at the waist/not get 5.000 blood draws every 2 weeks, so it sort of evens out. I had to do my glucose test last week (test for gestational diabetes), and thanks to a hurried phlebotomist I now look like a pregnant heroin addict:

Gross. 3 blood draws in 2 hours, both of my arms look like something out of Requiem for a Dream. You know, pre-amputation. Google "Jared Leto's arm- Requiem" if you want to relive terrible memories.

I also got a haircut yesterday, which probably doesn't seem like big news BUT IT TOTALLY IS. I haven't gotten one in a year, and the lady who did the cut was awesome. She seriously spent an hour and a half cutting each wave/curl on my head individually, and it was so awesome. She did a blowout that day just for fun, but I finally have a haircut that washes/wears well the second day. Amazement!

                                                         (yesterday-blowout. Also dosa.)

My birthday is this Sunday, but I keep forgetting. I don't know, 26 is not a milestone. My birthday last year was so kickass awesome that I still can't even deal with it, so this one can be whatever it is and I'll still be 100% happy. Plus, there's not a whole lot of drunken debauchery to be had when you're 7 months pregnant. I guess I could shotgun an O'Douls?

Alright, I think I'm going to go back to re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-reading Harry Potter now. Priorities, you know.