Word of the Day: verbose It's...cold. It's cold in our room, and our room is the warmest in the apartment. I thought I might actually have had to sleep with pants on last night, but I made it through the night without them. Man, but it was cold when I went to the bathroom at 3:30 in the morning. Not that I mind--it's about time, so sayeth me. My dreams are still spastic about Baby. I don't know what's going on. I know I dreamt about Baby last night, but I don't remember what it was. I just remember waking up a little panicked because...I couldn't find Baby? Like I said, I don't remember what it was, but I remember that only a bad mother does whatever I did. I suppose, and what must be obvious is, that I'm worried about what kind of parent I'm going to be. It's in my nature to worry. Everyone tells me, 'Oh, Ashley, you don't have anything to worry about, you're a good woman and you'll be a great mother.' But none of that really makes me feel any better. I want people to tell me, 'Hey, if you need anything just let me know,' or, 'Hey, let me tell you what I did.' But no, all I get is, 'You don't have anything to worry about because you're going to be a great mom.' Yeah, well, I won't believe that until Baby has a name and it has it's own life and family, and then we'll see. Also in the sequence of dreams from last night, I made out with Avril Lagivne, and for some reason Aaron wasn't happy about it. Which is weird because I never thought Aaron would mind anything like that happening in waking life. And I don't even like Avril Lavigne. Sometimes at work I just want to put a sign on the desk that says: Yes, I'm pregnant.
I'm due 21 March.
Right now I'm ____ months along.
I don't know if I'm having a girl or a boy.
I don't really care what you think I'm having.
Please don't ask me questions or try and give me advice
[unless I mention my pregnancy or ask for advice].
Thank you. I'm so tired of having to explain everything to one guest while checking them in/out and then having to say the exact same thing five minutes later when the next guest comes in/out. Cyndi and I worked all weekend together, for three days in a row, and I don't know how many people were freaked out about having two pregnant women working the front desk at the same time. I don't know, apparantly people don't realize that we have to deal with people all the time who are, for some reason, amazed at the fact that there are two pregnant women working in the same place at the same time. And they feel the need to tell us. After a few months of getting attention, I just want people to leave me alone. I'm getting tired of being pregnant in general. This nine months business, I don't know what's up with that. And now, yes, once again, I'm hungry and I'm going to find something to eat.