Come on… really?

I stayed home from work. Again. This is only the second time so I’m very careful to not complain too much. I know of women who spent most of the first trimester laying on the bathroom floor. I just feel like I have a low-grade flu. I’m tired, I’m achy, I only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and I want to cry. All. The. Time. Everything makes me cry. I cried over cottage cheese in the dairy aisle today. I don’t know why. I felt that somehow cottage cheese had been given an unfair shake in this world. I got a mani/pedi – just to get out of the house – and the ladies seemed so nice the way they were cutting my cuticles that it made me cry. I mean they don’t have to paint my toenails, but they do… god that’s fucking nice. And sad.  And nice. I got Mr. Forty a cranberry limeade from Sonic (because he likes the ice) and his love of ice… made me cry. I’m opting not to pet any of the animals so that I don’t cry. As if on cue, one of the animals just walked by the couch and farted. I’m crying again, but it’s for a slightly different reason....