Too Much Information. Read on if you Dare.

Well, today started off okay. And by started off I mean the first 15 minutes or so. I've found recently, jumping right in the shower as soon as I roll out of bed isn't always the best idea, as lately I feel as though my legs won't hold me up. I write this off to a few factors 1) my interrupted love for sleep, 2)my difficult-to-get-moving-morning-sleepiness and 3) being pregnant. So together, these fun factors make me feel as though I need to just sit down, to which I often respond my leaning in the corner of the shower, balancing precariously somewhere between half awake and relief. So today, as usual, my morning routine stayed nearly the same, except for one small adjustment- along my route to the corner of the shower I realized I was going to be sick, and not the 'oh, I have a sore throat I better drink some tea' type of sick. About two seconds after I reasoned about what I should do (as in get out of the shower and worship the porcelain throne)I'm still standing in the shower, at which point I determined it was far too late for going anywhere. So there I lean in the corner of the shower. I slowly slither down to the edge of our baby blue 1969 bathtub and find myself throwing up into the tub rather than out of it thinking, well, at least I can take another shower afterward, all the while day dreaming of a new bathroom with one of those nice tiled benches that you can sit on, you know, the ones designed for aesthetics and shaving your legs. Here this: somewhere out there someone could make a fortune by marketing 'shower upgrades' of this sort to pregnant women. I promise it would be a success.

Soon after, I called in sick to work, because in all honesty, I have no idea if this is the flu (to which I respond- boo, hiss) or if its baby related. If this is the baby, then its the first time I've experienced such violent cookie-tossing, and it makes me wonder if I should rescind all my thoughts about the second trimester....
So here I am blogging away on my sofa, because in all reality, I have nothing better to do (such a huge lie on my part, I have loads of work to do. Just call me queen procrastination).
And, my friends, all this blogging under a cozy blanket on my sofa, got me thinking about those days that we are home sick, actually enjoying our get well respite. I wander back to college memories of three or four movies, I giant glass of fruit punch gatorade, some soup to sooth my freezing cold bones and the most comfy quilt. A sense of panic sets in. Those days are nearly over. When this baby arrives I will be able to do no such thing. Babies require care regardless of how sick you are. Oh no. No more quiet, soothing sick days. So, I've decided to make use of my last days of 'sick freedom', have gathered up my laptop, comfy blankets and dressed in layers of sweatpants and sweatshirts to retreat to our basement, where I find DVDs, access to a drink and soup and a little corner of comfort. I'm prepared to say goodbye to days like today, but not until I savor my one last chance. Here's to being sick while single. Drink a Gatorade on me.