This gig's pretty cool.
I got up to get ready for work today after feeling kind of blah and bitchy all morning, trudged into the bathroom and shut the door to keep the dog out. (She responds to my blah/bitchy moods by becoming clingy, which doesn't so much work when I'm not feeling very affectionate. It actually makes me want to lock her in the closet so that the endless musical tinkling of her tags as she paces around me will stop.) I needed to get ready and didn't feel like tripping over her, as there's literally 8 square feet of floor space in my bathroom and my dog is easy to trip over even when she's not being a neurotic pain in the ass, which is never.
ASIDE: For the record, it's the dog's fault I was in a sour mood. I got home last night to find that she'd gotten a hold of my prenatal vitamins, which had been on my kitchen counter. She's NEVER gotten anything off the counter, I hadn't thought she was big enough, and why the hell would a bottle of pills be the first thing she snatched? Because she's crazy, that's why, and she wants to torture me until I pull all of my hair out and die. Anyway... This new development meant that the night I had planned was immediately scrapped and pasted over with a new agenda: Stay awake most of the night and keep an eye on the mutt to ensure that she hadn't ingested any of the pills and was going to die of iron poisoning. So I didn't sleep much for keeping an eye on her.
And of course she's fine. Better than fine. Not so much as a hitch in her giddy up. You'd never know she was a VERY BAD DOG last night. Silly damn girl didn't even have the decency to throw up or something for my troubles. (I kid. I don't want her to be sick. I'm thrilled she's not sick. Or, at least I would be, if I were awake.)
Anyway! What I was saying: I locked myself in the bathroom and got dressed, then decided to maybe do a little something with my face and hair area since I haven't in... uh... a really long time, and don't usually anyway but I was in need of a little help, what with the staying up all night. So I look in the mirror and as I'm turning to the side to make sure all of my very long, very unruly hair was up and out of the way, I see a bump.
A very distinct bump, in my stomach region.
I swear, I sat there and laughed for a good ten minutes. Not because there's a bump (there should be by this point, 4 months into The Knocked Up) but just because I was happy. I was so stupidly happy to be looking at visible proof, proof that ANYONE could see (if they knew what they were looking at) that this is real. I'm really pregnant, there's really a baby in there, and he/she is really okay right now.
It made my day. I've been pretty happy and relaxed since then, just content. Which is saying a lot, considering I've been at work all day and holy crap, do I hate my job right now. So yeah, this gig is pretty cool, pretty exciting. I'm really stoked. I can't wait to get BIGGER, actually, and I know people think I don't really mean that but I do. Bigger = baby is growing = healthy baby = AWESOME.