Forty Weeks, One Day

My prevailing emotion?

Fatigue.

Lord, I'm tired.

My sister called from Times Square a couple of hours ago. She was at the TKTS Booth, and wanted to know if I wanted a half-price ticket to the Cirque du So.leil show for tonight.

It killed me to decline. I love going to shows!

But just the idea of getting to downtown Manhattan sounded exhausting. (This conversation was as I was trudging, oh so incredibly slowly, one and a half (long) blocks home from Emily's house.)

I'm tired of being so tired.

On the plus side, I spent twenty minutes on the elliptical both yesterday morning and today. First thing in the morning, I might add. That's the only time I have the energy.

This is not because I'm trying to maintain fitness. This is only as a survival strategy, to try and maintain some semblance of sanity.

My attitude adjustment is going pretty well, perhaps as a result. I'm not thinking about being "late" or "overdue." I'm [fairly] cheerfully looking forward to August 20th.

It was fun to be at a party yesterday, and to have people ask when I was due, and to answer airily, "oh, today" and then have them gasp in... either admiration (at my fortitude) or horror (they seemed to think my water might break, say, on their shoes.)


I say that would've made for a memorable party experience.