I read that the third trimester will bring back some of the more unpleasant symptoms of pregnancy, like an increase in hormones leading to nausea and fatigue…as well as backaches and swelling.  I didn’t want to believe it.  But as I near the final third of this little trip I’m on, I’m starting to really feel it. 

The last two nights have been a bust.  I had such good intentions…clean out the closet!  Organize nursing textbooks and start reviewing!  Do some laundry!  But instead I found myself falling asleep by 7pm and waking up at 8:30pm just to go to the bathroom and then head straight to bed.  It is pathetic.  I feel like someone is putting rufies in my skim milk at dinner time and it wouldn’t matter if Johnny Depp attempted to ride a taradactyl through my patio doors, I would still not be able to wake up.  But I don’t give up easily, so I’m going to give it another shot tonight…the staying awake, I mean…so wish me luck.

Swelling.  I didn’t think it was going to happen to me.  I don’t know why, I mean, what the hell makes me special?  But Monday night Tony gave me some cash to go get a pedicure.  I won’t tell you that he shoved the money in my pocket and begged me to get a pedicure because, HOLY HELL, NIKOL!  Your feet are calloused worse than a construction worker on the job site for two months straight!  No, I won’t tell you that.  I’ll just tell you that I can’t reach my feet in the shower to pumice them, or trim my nails, and it would be a complete and total MIRACLE if I could paint my toenails.  I fall over every single time I put my socks on in the morning, and I just laugh and sigh with relief that Tony is sleeping so that I don’t have to bear the pointing and laughing.  Oh, the mockery!  Just for a day, I wish God would make him pregnant.  Just for one flipping day.  Anyway, I went to the pedicure store…where one buys pedicures.  And when I took off my boots and then, my socks, I audibly GASPED!  I now get indentations where my socks have been etched into my ankles.  I felt like a post-operative patient after the nurse removed the TED hose!  I think the woman working on my neglected feet felt sorry for me, because she massaged my feet, ankles, and legs for – I’m not even exaggerating – a full hour.  It was heaven.  When I got home and showed Tony my new pretty feet, he said, ” Oh nice!  I like red!  Hey, you’re getting fat-girl feet.”  And then I called his ex and told her she can have him back. 

Tony is planning on being home this evening, so maybe we can get out of the house and do something fun.  We won’t see each other again until TUESDAY because I think he is avoiding my gargantuan-ness…or maybe he really does have to work, but I am in serious doubt.  So in true Drama Queen Style, I need to be somewhere public so I can make a scene and cry and stomp my fat feet screaming, “My husband neglects his 7-month pregnant wife!”  Or I just need to go out to dinner because I’m HAWNGREE!  Either way, it sounds like entertainment to me.  My mom was going to come over to finish painting the nursery, but because she’s awesome she agreed to come tomorrow instead.  Are you bored with this post, because I totally am.  Do you want a little preview?  Would that make things more interesting? 

Don’t say I never did anything nice for you.

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