I'm Dying

Not really, but I'm sick.

At least it's not the flu, only a head cold.  Yeah, Only a head cold, I was saying earlier today.  Except now it's 2AM and I'm still awake because I can't seem to breathe out of my nose and my lips are starting to crack because of all the slack-jawed mouth breathing.  And my head hurts from blowing my nose so often.  And I can't get comfortable because any way I try to postition myself I either feel like I have to pee (even though I just went), my hip starts to hurt so bad I want to tear my own leg off or I get attacks of the worst heartburn anyone has ever had.  And my feet are really hot.

I'm usually not such a baby when I'm sick, but being sick and seven* months pregnant is a whole different game.  Plus I have a doctors appointment tomorrow morning and I just know I'm going to get flack for not getting a flu shot.  Even though I don't have the flu.  (I have a thing against flu shots after years and years of watching my mom forced into getting them because of her job, and then getting sick for three weeks right after, every single time.  And me?  Never had one and have had two cases of a mild, 24 hour stomach flu in the past five years.  Take that medical science!)

To top it off, there is a man sprawled out in the dead centre of the bed, using up half my pillows, and snoring so lightly and sweetly I'm sure he's dreaming of puppies and rainbows just to rub it in. I'll have to ask him about that tomorrow.

* eight.  33 weeks is eight months, I just googled it.  Told you I was awesome at pregnancy math.