Updating For Updating's Sake
March 29, 2005
I would love to update, y'all, but honestly, there's just nothing to talk about.
Weekend: Went home to visit parents. Discovered doppler is fine family entertainment, provided you're okay with unbuttoning your pants in front of everyone and giving them a 10-minute listen to the symphony that is your gastrointestinal tract. Ate lots of ham. No, more than that. Ceiba peed in parents' house twice; refused to poop until the car ride home.
Monday: Wore underwear that were too small. Spent entire day with persistent wedgie. High point of day was eating a 12-inch meatball sub for lunch. Fell asleep at 8 p.m., woke up at 11 p.m., ate hot dog, went back to bed.
Today: Hit wall, clothing-wise. Three pairs of slobbish maternity pants from Old Navy and four tops from the Gap are not enough to cobble a week's worth of outfits from. Panty hose no longer fitting. Took 45 minutes to find something non-hideous to wear to work today. Wearing elastic-waistband skirt hiked up to chest and a maternity sweater I have worn about seventeen times in the past five days. Also cut big hole in control-top hose to accomodate pooching belly. No, seriously. Ate oatmeal, BLT, fruit cup, bagel with cream cheese, two mini-Twix, three mini-Snickers and box of raisins.
Am feeling distinctly constipated now.
Aaaannndd, that brings you completely up to speed on the Fabulous Life of Amalah.
Oh, except that I bought my BLT and fruit cup at the little deli in the office building next door, and I was 24 cents short. And I looked sad because I really wanted to be healthy and eat some fruit salad, but there was no way in HELL I was leaving the bacon behind instead. But then the cashier told me it was okay and that I could just bring the 24 cents "next time." Like I was some sort of regular with excellent credit. Which, awww.
Either that or he could tell that I was wearing panty hose with a big huge hole in the stomach and felt sorry for me. Or maybe it was the sweater that I've worn forty-two times in the past three weeks.
Later I found a quarter in my desk and debated taking it over to the deli, except that I'd probably be too tempted to get another BLT and ask them to put it on my tab.