7:43 am. Ezra appears at the side of my bed, just at eye level. "MOMMY! WAKE UP!"
7:44 am. When I fail to WAKE UP in an adequately enthusiastic fashion, he beans me in the head with a small rubber SPÖKA nightlight. "MOMMY! KITTY SAY WAKE UP!"
7:45 am. I wake up. We bought two of those suckers at IKEA this weekend, and they make deceptively good weapons.
7:50 am. Both boys are in bed with me. Noah has brought along a ROTERA lantern that he's grown incredibly attached to and a blanket that is actually an Invibbability Cloak and is talking about Harry Potter, at least Harry Potter According To A Child Who Saw 20 Minutes Of The First Movie And Plays The LEGO Game Version On The Xbox And Thus Maybe Has Some Of His Facts Wrong.
7:55 am. We all hide under the Invibbability Cloak from Lord Baltimort. Or a bear, depending on which kid is currently steering the narrative.
7:59 am. My brain joins the rest of my body in WAKE UP VILLE and I remember the bottle of awful sugary bright red liquid sitting in the fridge that I'm supposed to spend the next five minutes chugging for my glucose test.
8:00 am. Sitter arrives. I swap children for EASYDEX 50 Oral Glucose Tolerance Beverage, Fruit Punch Flavor.
8:01 am. DRINK.
8:02 am. Oh God, it's like medicinal Kool-Aid laced with reconstituted Pixie Stix.
8:03 am. DRINK.
8:03.38932730 am. I'm totally going to start an urban legend about someone mixing this stuff with Red Bull, then thinking she could fly off the roof, right before Satan appeared and told her to eat some Pop Rocks too.
8:04 am. DONE.
8:05 am. Brush teeth. Spend next four minutes spitting out bright pink saliva into sink.
8:09 am. Shower. Feel mostly kind of normal, surprisingly enou...
8:10 am. THERE IT IS, MOTHERFUCKERS.
8:11 am. SUGAR!!!!11!!!!!
8:15 am. I can see my heart beating in my chest.
8:20 am. The bone part of my skull feels itchy.
8:30 am. WHERE ARE MY SHOES.
8:33 am. WHO STOLE MY SHOES.
8:35 am. GOING TO MURDER WHOEVER TOOK MY SHOES WITH MY BARE HANDS.
8:36 am. *trips over shoes*
8:37 am. Found them!
8:40 am. WHERE ARE MY CAR KEYS.
8:41 am. Phone rings. It's the OB office. Doctor was called to a delivery and needs to reschedule my appointment.
8:42 am. "Okay I understand but see the thing is I was supposed to have the glucose test today and I already drank the drink like 40 minutes ago and I can kind of see forever and it's full of stars and can someone please take my blood anyway before my heart stops beating or something and hey look I found my keys they were in my purse."
8:44 am. Am informed that only the receptionist is in the office. There's no one available to take my blood at that location and since I can't get to the other, farther-away office or get a referral to a lab within the next 15 minutes or so for accurate results, it's probably best if I just swing by later for another bottle of satan-sugar-water and try again on Wednesday morning.
8:45 am. The kitchen countertop feels sooooooo nice on my temples, which are kind of maybe starting to throb.
8:50 am. I should probably make some coffee to counteract the whole. Thing. That happens. After I drink. The. Whattayacallit.
8:57 am. Do you know what's really heavy? Shoulder blades. Right? Lay off my back, you stupid bones.
8:59 am. I was supposed to get an ultrasound too. I'd probably be disappointed if someone hadn't come along and yanked my will to live and/or give a shit about anything out from under me about 11 minutes earlier.
9:00 am. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
9:06 am. "MOMMY! KITTY SAY WAKE UP."