I’m not in a good mood any more.
All that stuff I said before about liking your new hair cut and your sassy personality–I was lying, and now that I’m in a bad mood, I no longer have the decency to lie.
Yup. It’s like that.
Hey, Beckey, what gives? Why are you a giant bitch all the time?
Because people, I’m over it.
I have less than 8 weeks to gestate, and I’m ready to be done.
I never sleep, but I’m always tired.
I feel like a 90 year old woman all rickety, and slow-moving.
And then there’s the ridiculous amount of liquid hot magma living inside my esophagus, just sloshing around, making me breathe fire, and constantly vomit hot hot chunks into my mouth.
People always ask me how I’m feeling, and up until now I’ve tried to be upbeat and positive, but I can’t find positive things to say anymore. And the fact that this will all end with a tiny screaming baby who is going to scare the shit out of me, isn’t helping.
So yeah, that’s how I’m really feeling.
Be careful next time you ask me, because I might tell you the truth, and and no one really likes hearing the truth, because it’s awkward and uncomfortable, kinda like these underwear I’m wearing.
So the lesson learned today is:
The truth is like my underwear?