3 more days
Today we got everything situated with the lease and picked up the keys. We decided to take a load of boxes over there and try to picture where everything is going to go. It was Vance's first time actually seeing the apartment. It's adorable, by the way. I love the vaulted ceilings. It's going to be just right for the 2 and eventually 3 of us. But man, those stairs are KILLER. I helped take a couple of boxes up stairs and I pulled or strained a muscle in my abdomen. I might have had a Braxton-hicks (read: harmless) contraction. I feel really awful about this, but I am definitely going up there once and not coming down until I go into labor. And it was hot. Since they're paying for the electricity right now the air conditioner was set to like 80 degrees...why even bother? I wasn't feeling too good when we left. I threw a hissy fit for some water at Burger King.
There is still so much left to do before we get everything moved. I need to sleep all the way through tonight because it's all me tomorrow. I need to get all of the trash out of here and just work on getting the last of all the crap packed and start on the kitchen. Of course all of the aquariums need to be cleaned up and ready to be stored, but I don't handle any of that mess.
Anyway, I am still really excited to get started on this new place. So there.

I hate moving. No, I really do hate it.
We move in a week. We pick up the keys on Wednesday, but we don't actually get everything in the door until Saturday. This weekend we are moving crap into the storage room, which will make things so much easier. I have to admit though, there is so much left to pack and I am so beyond tired. Today my intention was to pack more stuff, but after I put clothes in the wash and did dishes, I just couldn't keep my damn eyes open practically. I had to nap. And I have horrible insomnia to boot. No matter how much sleep I get the night before and whether I nap during the day or not, I cannot sleep at night. It's not helping my energy. And moving is just stupid. You put stuff in a box, then you take it to a new house and you take stuff out of the box. I am excited about the new, clean apartment, but not about all it is going to take to get there. I know I am not actually going to be any of the moving myself (we hired movers) but still. All of the packing/unpacking crap is on my shoulders. That is hard enough. And I am so tired I can hardly type straight. So goodbye.

Episode I
So today my friend Annie came into town for the weekend to hang out with her new boy toy and stopped by for a few hours at my place first. We went and got some lunch and then decided to watch Back to the Future. I was kicked back in the recliner and had a serious attack of...something. It started with indigestion and then my heart started pounding, I started sweating profusely, and I became extremely dizzy. Annie brought me an ice tray and I started rubbing it all over myself and practically cuddling it. I also thought that if I didn't pass out I was going to puke. Aside from being humiliating, it was really scary. Vance and Annie were begging me to call my Doctor, but I wasn't all that worried. I am going in on Tuesday for my monthly check-up and I figured I would address it then. I asked some of the ladies on a message board what it could be and someone suggested it could have been an anxiety/panic attack and as much as I'd hate to admit it, thats very much a possibility. I thought that part of my life was over...I haven't had an honest attack in at least a couple of years. I had a lot of them when I was on birth control. It could just be a combination of hormones and anxiety about moving and general baby/motherhood type things.
Sunday is Father's day! I don't know what the hell I am going to get for my Daddy to be. Annie and I are going shopping tomorrow and I know Vance is going to want to eat at a seafood restaurant. I've never been big on seafood with the exception of snow crab legs and gumbo. I'm afraid to eat shellfish because of my lowered immune system. Paranoia, I know. Anyway, it is late and I should probably at least consider going to bed.

OH GOD!

26 weeks. I am wearing pjs that don't fit in the least bit, no bra. No make-up, hair pulled up. Why the hell not?

Do you speaka my language?
My birthday present from my dad was a spa package from a place called "Oasis day spa and nails" that included a manicure, deluxe pedicure, and 1 hr Swedish massage. I thought all that sounded great except for the massage because of my current condition, so I thought I would go there and haggle with them and see what all else I could do. Sounds easy, right? Wrong. I get there and all I want to do is talk to someone and possibly set an appointment. I talk to three different people, none of whom speak english. I ended up just getting my manicure and pedicure. How? I don't know.
The service itself was fine, the ladies were nice (I think), there was just a heavy communication problem. I think when I was reading reviews for the place one person complained that they thought it was rude that the staff spoke their "own" language around them. I don't have a problem with that...I would rather they talk amongst themselves then try to talk to me.
Anyway, so when it came time to pay I finally get to talk to someone who speaks english. Again, there was still confusion stemming from the first part of the visit. I didn't really want to do this today, I would have just gotten everything done the same day, but I just sort of fell into doing it this way. So I got the rest of the money credited back to me. Mind you, I can only use it at the salon. Bummer.
It was a hassle, but if you go in there knowing what you're in for and exactly what you want, then I believe it could genuinely enjoyable. I personally enjoyed my deluxe pedicure. My feet feel softer than ever. So go there and ask specifically for "deluxe pedicure".

The real concerns
I have moved on from my crazy pregnant lady concerns and onto the ones that actually matter. We ran out of moneys. Like really ran out. We payed rent and were left with $7. And a lot of coins. We are about to head out to a coinstar machine and cash in so Vance can make it to work tomorrow. I spent $4 I found on a Simon giftcard on Wendy's for myself, and Vance was left to eat Ramen. I am such an asshole. We are trying to keep from asking family for moneys because we need to appear to be stable and independent.
I hate situations like these because it creates such tension and stress between us. We begin to hate each other. He starts to hate me because I am draining the life out of him and I start hating him because he is just so mean about it.
He gets paid in like 2 weeks and we have some other money on the way that will at least keep us afloat until he gets paid again. Until then, it's rice and beans for dinner.

3 am, pregnancy, my self esteem
Sounds like a fun post to me!
I can't sleep. Vance's phone kept going off with text messages and I couldn't help but be the concerned, insecure wife and check them for him. He was asleep! I should have just left them alone, right where they were. They were picture messages. From my friend. The first one was totally harmless and funny...she did herself up like a trucker. The second one...wasn't so funny and I didn't see as harmless, really. I lost it, but I didn't overreact! No, I sent her a message from my phone asking her to stop sending Vance late-night messages and then left the room to cry my eyes out of my head. An overreaction would have been waking Vance up, screaming at him, then calling her to tell her to fucking leave a married man alone. I don't know why I didn't see this coming... she's been talking to him online and sending him picture messages for a while, and I only saw the innocent ones, God only knows what else there could have been. It just strikes me as odd that we have been best friends for a long time and she hasn't sent me any messages. I should yell at him for the things that he "jokingly" says to and about any of my female friends. Telling her that when she came down to visit that she could parade around our apartment in a bath towel should have prompted a good punch to the jaw.
I am starting to feel that familiar feeling that I can't trust anyone around me. My best friend flirts with my husband. Who am I supposed to go bitch to about this? My husband? I still have most of my brain intact, so I am willing to forgive her if she stops, and I am willing to forgive him if he, well, quits acting like an asshole.
I don't know how much of this is just pregnancy hormones. My body is really starting to change now and truth be known, I feel like a fucking heffer. I never had great self esteem before and it has really plummeted. I feel bad for faulting women in the past who gave their husbands hell and went crazy, because now I know how they feel. It's band enough that Vance has stopped touching me. I feel ugly, fat, and completely undesirable. I just wish for a second Vance, and really all asshole men, would just try to comprehend how we feel right now and try to be nicer. If he really loved me he would be more proactive in making me feel better about myself. It's just three more months!
Now I don't know if I'll be able to get to sleep now. I hate it when shit like this happens. I always get so wound up until I am able to come to resolution. The words will come out making a lot more sense if I get some sleep first.