So this is supposed to be the most depressing day of the year. Third Monday, far from Christmas and far to next holiday, credit card bills, failed resolutions, blah blah.
Last year the most depressing day of the year fell on January 18th. I remember clearly that date because that was the day I got the second bloodwork from what turned out to be my chemical and confirmed we were no longer pregnant. It was also the day that we took our pet rat in to be put to sleep because she developed several tumours and although she was still acting okay, she was definitely not moving around as well as she used to and I didn’t want her to be in any pain.
*That* was a depressing day.
I stayed up until past 1am on the weekend. I think it was that late. We went to a friend’s house and I had taken a nap before we went and then we were visiting and trying out their new Kinect (which I wish I’d had the energy for… hopefully we can play it again once I’m feeling less like I’m made out of lead) and stuff. I thought I’d sleep on the way home but couldn’t, and then I went immediately to bed. Slept well, but not for that long, and then the rest of the day I wasn’t feeling all that great, and then by 7pm I was feeling really not good.
So yeah, no more staying up that late for at least the next few weeks. I do notice that the more tired I get, the worse I feel. And the less tired I am, the better I feel. Which I guess is true all the time, but it seems like pregnancy turns everything up to 11.
Bloodhound nose normally, but now I smell differently. I made brownies and I couldn’t even tell if they smelled good because the smell of the hot oven was making me queasy.
Still haven’t puked, but tonight I gagged on my dinner. It was going okay, so I wonder if it was just too much in my mouth or something, but that signalled the end of eating for a while.
I’m ready to go to bed now and it’s not even 7pm yet. Party time at my house!