I’m sitting up in a hotel room with my laptop on my lap and the TV on House. David hates this show – the fake accent and curmudgeon doctor – so we rarely watch it at home, but I eat it up. Watched Medium last night and was happily, uninterruptedly enthralled. I was up until midnight just luxuriating in my own absorption in myself and my own thoughts, or should I say non-thoughts considering all I did was veg out on cable.
After this weekend I couldn’t wait to be alone, truth be told. Isn’t that awful? No. No it is not. I love my daughter and my family but they require a lot of energy and this pregnancy has made me freaking tired. The irony is, though, that work today was excrutiating. By 2:30, 3 o’clock, I was exhausted and couldn’t wait to get my heels off my feet and let my waistline go. I’m also still struggling not to look terribly pregnant. I don’t feel like I’m far enough along to look the way I do but it’s turning into a real fight and I fear I’m losing.
Turns out a day of relief was really all I needed to make me love my life again. They make me tired but they fill me up in the end. That sounds so cheesy or cliche but I’m so happy to have them in my life.
David’s making new cabinets and countertop for our kitchen, I was able to afford buying us a new washer/dryer and pay for the remodel, in general, and we are not in debt. We have cars and a house to fix up and are all healthy, alive and well. I have a good job, a secure job and an amazingly talented and determined husband. It’s all good. I feel like a true cheese ball, but life is good. It’s hard at times, but it’s always good. I’m lucky.