Schwetty

It's time to write.  I know this because Joe has gone to bed, and that is just what I do now when that happens. 

The day has been fairly uneventful.  As previously mentioned, Joe left the house a little after 3AM, and I stayed in bed until after 9.  It was a big morning of waiting on the cable guy to come and then the bug man.  Fun, fun.  I got a new bug man after their routes were revised for gas efficiency.  Ron had been with us for nearly three years, but I guess we're done now.  Just as well because I really didn't feel like having to talk to him about being pregnant.  He irritated me sometimes with his dumb advice and talked so friggin' slow that I often wanted to choke him.  Now I have an older gentleman aptly named RonNIE who talks fast and works fast.  I like the dude.  And on his first day he didn't talk to me about having his dog neutered.  Excellent.

After I finally knocked out all my morning appts and a long, slightly manic (her, not me) phone call with a friend, I got my ass over to Target for a sleep sack sale.  Yes, that's right.  Halo Sleep Sacks on sale for $15 (five bucks off).  I bought four...and had a $2 off coupon.  Booya.  My new plan to keep the stress low is to just slowly buy what we need.  Sleep Sacks wouldn't be high on the list right now, but they were on sale.  Plus, I have 90 days to return them if I need or want to.  Win, win. 

Soon after my return from Target, I managed to lock myself out of the house with only the spare key to the Maxima.  No purse, no money, and no cell phone.  I realized it immediately and shot back to the door, peering through its window.  The dogs, possibly sensing my mistake, stared back, alert with their ears up.  I looked straight into Dexter's eyes and tried to will him to open the door but to no avail.  Then I remembered that my bedroom window was likely unlocked.  It was, and since I locked myself out into the garage, I had access to its contents including a folding chair, a screw driver, and a blanket.  Thankfully I wasn't locked out for long, though I guess I could have driven somewhere to wait until Joe got back from Savannah.  Instead I carted my items around back, using the screw driver to pop the screen out and initially pry the window open until I could push it up with my hands.  I then laid the blanket on the sill, which I eased myself onto by standing on the chair.  It doesn't sound like much, but despite my denial at how big I am sometimes, I am in fact seven months pregnant.  Still, both crisis and an ass-busting incident were avoided. 

Last, my stepbrother's wife gave birth to their son just a couple hours ago.  I got a text of the mama holding the new baby, and as I showed Joe, I found myself saying aloud, "See, I can't wait for that moment."  It's good to realize my knee jerk reaction to such a thing is that now instead of what it was four years ago when my stepsister had her son, which was something along the lines of "Glad it's not me, and when is lunch?"  Progress.