Word of the Day: garrulous There aren't that many days that are just horrible. Mostly, my days are filled with playing with and disciplining Patrick, trying to take as many five minute naps as possible, and going to work. But last Friday was a culmination of things that, even if it was all just a coincidence, was just depressing. First off, I woke up and rolled over to get comfortable. I noticed that my fan was not on [I have a small fan running at night so that I can get to sleep--it's really quiet out here at night, and without the white noise, JD's wheezing would keep me awake]. I tried to look at the clock, but everything was black in that direction. I knew the truth, but I really didn't want to get up, get my phone, and set an alarm for JD. After tossing and turning for a few minutes, I was so hot that I had to get up anyway. I stumbled into the living room and groped around my purse to find my phone and check the time--5:30 am. After I set the alarm, I tried to lay back down in the bed, but, knowing that the air conditioner wasn't going to come on to cool me off, I just got hotter and hotter. Finally, around six, I gave up and went to the couch to try to sleep. It seemed like only a few minutes had passed when I felt a hand on my back and Patrick saying, 'Mommy, why are you in my spot?' Time: 6:30 am. After chiding me for being in his spot, Patrick went into the bedroom and roused JD, who was confused about the electricity situation. He got up and started moving around while I rolled over on the couch and tried desperately to get just a few minutes more of sleep. He called the electic company and heard a message about the outage--someone had driven into a pole and knocked out the power to this whole area. Thankfully, the power was back on by 7:30, so it's not like we had to suffer through the whole day without air conditioning. After the bustle of the morning, I had a sleep deprivation headache, and Patrick must have decided it was the day to annoy Mommy the most out of the week. There's always one of those days during the week where, no matter what I say, Patrick just doesn't listen to me and will not leave me to rest. So, by the time I had to go to work, I was super grouchy. Also, I was super hungry for an Italian BMT from Subway. There just so happens to be a Subway on the corner of the highway and our road, so I stopped and Patrick and I got some sandwiches. Then, when we went back to the car, it wouldn't start. I called JD to come and get us and proceeded to eat my sandwich and wait for him. Mind, it was nearly five in the afternoon and hardly any wind at all was in the air, so it was flipping hot. The sun was coming in on Patrick's side of the car, and he was pouring sweat. Even his little legs were dripping with huge beads of sweat. I felt so terrible because it was my selfish desire that got us stuck in a full parking lot with the sun beating down on him. When JD came, he couldn't get to the hood to jump the battery because there were cars on either side of me, so we all stuffed ourselves into the cab of JD's tiny Ford Ranger and he brought me to work. I was already hot and sweaty, and the air conditioner in the lobby had gone out previously in the week. So it was hot behind the desk on top of me being hot. I drank a whole bottle of water and stood in front of the box fan they had up there, panting. Thankfully, I had food in me so I wasn't in danger of fainting or becoming too weak, and, after it got dark, I felt much better. When I got home that night, I just fell into bed. A few other things that made the day sucky: I have to record LOST and watch it on Fridays, but there was no LOST that Thursday, so there was no LOST that Friday. Also, Battlestar Galactica, which airs on Fridays, was on a break as well, so there was no prospect of me being sufficiently entertained that weekend at all. However, like I said before, all of the bad that happens usually happens all at once, so nothing else should go wrong until, I would guess, the baby's born. Speaking of the baby, Patrick is so funny with regards to his prospective sibling. He's always wanting to kiss and hug my belly, and he sings to it and tells it secrets. I asked him if he's going to be a good big brother. He says yes. He says he's going to teach the baby Patty Cake and the ABC's, among other things. I really do hope it's a boy, because Patrick would have so much fun with a brother. Oh, and also, today was the first day since I've been pregnant that I've vomited. Hopefully, it was just a one-time fluke and not something that my prenatal pills are going to start making me do.