I meant to write a blog on Friday night, but just as I settled down to jot down some nonsense, I heard a really loud curse word. That starts with the letter F. My poor husband cut his finger badly with an x-acto knife when he was doing some design work. He also wants me to add that he has never cut himself before. This was a freak occurrence and don’t you dare think otherwise.
Anyway, it was panic time around here as I threw on a horrible ensemble of black leggings, a yellow maternity top, a gray skirt, and flip flops. I left the house with that on! He cut his finger really bad and blood was everywhere, so I was sure we would need to head to the ER. Thankfully, Chris was the calm and collected one and told me we should just go to the pharmacy and get some suture strips. That did the trick and it’s healing nicely now. I still wince thinking about it (and the outfit).
On Saturday, I got up bright and early for my 1-hour glucose test. It wasn’t so bad. I got a nicely chilled bottled of flat orange soda, basically. I was thirsty, so I pounded it down, impressing all of the nurses I’m sure. Then I kept myself busy with Facebook and a book about John Lennon (more on my love for him in my next post). Hopefully I get the results soon.
That evening, we had dinner with a friend of ours who happens to live like 50 feet from us, in the apartment building next door. He’s only lived there two months, and we had yet to see him, so when he sent me a text offering me a grilled green chile cheeseburger…uhh, yeah. I’ll be there. Have I mentioned that my biggest craving during this pregnancy has been cheeseburgers? And then add fresh roasted green chile and…heaven. It was also cool to just walk across the parking lot to get to them. I didn’t even have to lug around my purse!
Sunday, I did nothing. Technically, I did a little cleaning and watched a couple movies. But mostly, it was naps. And nothing.