Despite trying to remain all zen and okey-dokey with the final stretch of pregnancy, I finally cracked this afternoon and held a little pity party for one. There were tears and a little snot and a lot of whining about how sick I am of waiting and anticipating and just-plain-old-being-pregnant-and-uncomfortable. Jerry was very understanding and did a good job consoling me.
Then we went to see a movie, and I felt better.
I know I'm still a week short of my due date, so there's no real reason to be feeling so frustrated, but there's no explaining away the hormones of pregnancy, and knowing that you're being irrational doesn't help erase the irrationality of it.
So, anyway, I think I'll go take a long walk and then chug some Tabasco...