I have been getting ROCKED by this baby girl lately. I’m sixteen weeks now, and on a max dosage of nausea medication, so I’m not sure why I’ve recently had my most sick week. Maybe I’d been in the eye of the storm for a while, and now I’m hitting the fury of the eye wall and outer band.
Maybe I’ve watched wayyyy too much Hurricane Irma coverage while I’ve been sick.
Here’s a quick, what-we’ve-been-up-to rundown (low quality iPhone pics included) and thoughts from my bathroom while I sip Diet Coke on the floor:
I became OBSESSED with Hurricane Irma. I tracked Irma’s every move for no apparent reason.
When I wasn’t checking out Irma (she was just so slow for the frequency of my stalking), I found new myself wide-eyed reading the feed of my most diabolical social media outlet, Facebook. Although it’s not in response to anything I post, people get CRAY on Facebook. SO OFFENDED. ALL THE TIME. Your daughter wore a romper? OFFENDED. “God bless America” as your status? OFFENDED. A little boy drinking water out of a Starbucks cup? HORRIBLE. CPS ALERTED. A funny meme about parents not wanting their kids to have school projects? THE NERVE.
Are these people my friends? Aren’t the busy at jobs or something, or are they just licking Saltines while scrolling, too?
I’m equally parts entertained + whatever that feeling is I had about my neighbor’s three outdoor chihuahuas. (I did pray for coyotes, I will say that.)
We already flaunt marijuana dispensaries in Las Vegas, but judging by my Facebook feed, this nation would most benefit from Xanax dispensaries. Xanax brownies and gummy bears for all!
There it is. I figured out world peace before my Tums dissolved.
OMG, don’t tell Facebook I said this.
I’m still taking crackers with me everywhere. I alternate between Saltines and Ritz, which is proven by the 3″ of crumbs padding the bottom of my purse.
I also am constantly sipping Coke, preferably Pepsi, but sometimes preferably Diet Coke because I don’t even know my own preferences anymore. We frantically hauled ourselves to the library for story time last week , only to find it had been cancelled. The quick pace forced us to take a “too much sudden movement” restroom lounge while I sipped whatever I was drinking and put cold water on my face, while Gus suggested ditching the library for “Tacoooo Rioooo” (Café Rio) with gusto.
Before my sickness took a hard turn (the eyewall…can I call it that? I’m going to start mixing obstetrical and meteorologist terms), I beat my PR at Chuck E Cheese skeeball with a 10,000 point ball. I got, like, 4 tickets and I’d like to dispute the ticket allotment with someone at corporate as skeeball actually takes more talent than the higher payout games.
The price of snow cone and lemonade stands has increased substantially since I was selling on the streets. Inflation, I guess…and the financial offset of the generator needed for their actual ice machine. Elementary entrepreneurs don’t understand the struggle of we early 90s snow cone shavers.