Number of times I woke up to pee last night: five. 5! FIVE!
And someone out there is probably going to tell me to not have anything to drink before I go to bed, to which I will reply, I am so unbelievably thirsty at all times that I drank three bottles of water the other evening and still couldn’t have produced enough saliva to lick a stamp. Not that anyone licks stamps anymore, but I’m sure there is someone out there licking her 2 cent stamps to make up the difference for the last three times the price has gone up. Just sayin’.
Anyway, I’m thirsty. And so I drink. And then I pee. It’s a vicious cycle and it makes me want to cry every time I have to get out of that cozy bed. Especially during the times that I dream that I have to pee and then dream that I am actually sitting on the toilet and then ALMOST REALLY PEE IN MY BED! I’ve had some close calls, but so far the sheets have remained dry — with the exception of Tony’s bald-man sweat. Not to change the subject, but evidently, that’s what I’m all about today. This morning I went to kiss Tony good-bye like I do every morning when he is still in bed, and when I kissed his head my lips were drenched with head sweat! Not like damp, clamminess, but like DRENCHED, SALTY, SWEAT! It was so gross. I guess my point is that maybe I should just wet the bed and screw getting up five trillion times. We’re going to have to change the sheets daily due to Sweaty-McSweatleson anyway.
Nia has been kicking daily now. She seems to be awake and dancing about every three or four hours. Sometimes I can only feel her internally, and sometimes she is stronger and I can feel her with my hand. It’s pretty great. She’s a very talented dancer.