Taco Bell, please.

So, I’ve been told that you crave what you are deficient in, nutritionally.  Looks like I’m deficient in Taco Bell!  Hell yeah.  It is pretty much all I can stomach right now.  How weird is that?  I mean, I’ve always liked Taco Bell, but only indulged on a drunk evening here and there in the past.  Now, it’s all I can think about leading up to lunch.  A nacho cheese chalupa, a cool ranch dorito taco, and now, they’ve created the ultimate taco…a cool ranch cheesy gordita crunch.  Stop me now.  “Elizabeth, I’m coming!”  ::grabs heart::   (ode to Sanford).

Tomorrow begins week 9 of this shit show that they call the first trimester.  Otherwise known as the third level of hell.  “It will get better!”   “Oh, I never had morning sickness!”   “You will be so happy because it’s so worth it in the end when you have your baby in your arms!”   Okay, everyone can SUCK IT.  Those things are the exact opposite of what I want to hear right now.  Even if you have to make up the fact that you had some type of morning sickness to make me feel better about myself, you should probably do that.  Otherwise, there is a good chance we aren’t going to be on speaking terms much longer.

My sister-in-law sent me an email about going to get sized up for my bridesmaid dress by Thanksgiving.  I can’t wait to have that conversation with David’s Bridal.   “Um, yeah, so I’m going to be due right around the wedding date.  So I’m either going to be super huge fatty, or still huge fatty, but not as super.  What can you do for me?  Should I just buy two dresses and hope for the best?”   “No, the bride doesn’t know this information yet, so don’t mention anything about my dress size being a 35, please”

I’ve basically stopped caring about my job, in general.  I have all of these piles all over my desk.  I used to want to organize and condense.  Then, I realized that the woman who works directly under me is getting paid overtime to basically check her personal emails during work.  Since I am salary, I do not get OT.  At first, I got mad.  But now, I’ve decided to get even (plug First Wives Club).  I get to work as close to 9 a.m. as possible, and I am out the door at 5:01 p.m.   And I’m taking my full hour lunch now.  None of this “oh I am going to work through my lunch because there is just so much to do” business.  It’s a good feeling, that not caring.  Less stress for me, less stress for bebay!

My first doctor’s appointment is Monday.  I’m terrified because they might take blood from me, which is not cool.  Last time we tried that, I was so dehydrated that the blood wouldn’t flow fast enough into the little tube.  We would have been there for hours if the nurse didn’t make me chug a bottle of water.  Of course, I am also worried since I really want to hear the bebay’s heartbeat.  I’d feel much better knowing that something living in me was causing all of this pain and suffering.  Anyhow, I have many important questions for my doctor – they pretty much all have to do with food.  I have read in random places that I cannot eat certain things, but they are all things that I love, so I am hoping she will say the famous, “anything in moderation”….such as:   ‘Can I eat fried hot dogs?’  (this is a biggie for a certain vacation I’m going on soon), and ‘Can I please eat a sandwich?  Just one?!’   Clearly, my OBGYN will know where my priorities are.

I just have a feeling that I’m not going to be one of those “glowing” pregnant ladies who you can’t tell is pregnant from behind.  Oh well, hubby is out getting me Taco Bell right now.  You win some, you lose some 😉

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