He’s going to keep cracking away at my spine and lower intestines and I’m going to wear sneak-a-peek-at-my-vadge skirts and hooker heels to any and all school events going forward. If he doesn’t right himself soon and start kicking my ribs, I’m throwing bright blue eyeliner into the bargain. It’s all up to him now.
In other news, my bladder has joined the ranks of my stomach and lungs in being squished to the size of a peanut by my ever expanding inner child.
I was peeing frequently. Now I dribble on the regular.
Further to this, working with a team of miscreants who think nothing of making me laugh myself silly at any given point on any given day, now means all day, every day is a very scary time – urine wise.
What I wouldn’t give for one of those pees that start off with a screaming bladder and end what feels like 30 minutes later with a feeling of blissful relief seldom experienced except in these very instances.
In today’s news, I am pretty much done. I do not know how I’m going to survive the next four weeks. I need this year to be over. Clients are not in agreement. For someone who had always considered maternity leave to be something other people did, I am now quite literally counting down the days. Sure, I think a week or so in, I’m going to be a raging lunatic desperate for adult interaction and conversation, but for now… I can think of nothing more exciting than not having to worry about the mundanity of the end of the year wrap up.
Anybody out there have any tips for making it through December with all your fingernails and hair?