My life is sort of chaotic at the moment and it's making me crazy.
My sister in law just moved into my basement.
For an undetermined amount of time. It's always awkward having a long-term guest, particularly since it feels like we just got our house back from our last long-term guest.
In other crazy-making news, I’m dealing with a sort of dramatic case at work (as dramatic as my field of law gets, anyway) and I’ve got a bunch of really needy clients that keep calling and calling and calling and I cringe every time my phone rings and have seriously debated yanking it off my desk and burying it in the kitchen trash can. I made the mistake of forwarding my office calls to my cell phone (which I pay for, not the firm) and spent most of the day yesterday and all of this morning wishing I'd read the manual and figured out how to silence the damned thing.
And I’ve been enjoying another lovely bout of gastrointestinal tract trouble, and there’s nothing I like more than unexplained vomiting.
NB: still not pregnant. But I actually woke up the other day and went “I think it’s time to have a baby.” Weird. I mean, the mister is still allergic to babies, although his 29th birthday inspired some soul-searching, life-goal-revisiting, and general introspection, and while my biological clock might be going “make babies, make babies,” my brain is going “crushing student loan and credit card debt, an inability to take care of a dog, and general immaturity,” so I know it’s not time. But is that what happens? You’re going along all fine, thinking you’re not ready, positive you’re not ready, and then…bam! baby time?