I love chocolate milk

It’s my new coffee and cigarettes.

Cell Phone Mania

Now I understand why some people refuse to get cell phones. They don’t want to be found or bothered. They have too damn much going on and can’t physically deal with another issue or problem. Hi, my name is Megan, and I’m about to LOSE MY MIND!

It’s not really the wedding or the baby, it’s all of the logistics. It’s the 12 people that insist I call them with an update every day and if I don’t they take it as a personal slam. So for everyone that thinks I am blowing them off, including my mother, here is a breakdown of my daily activities.

6:15 a.m. Alarm goes off. Instead of walking the dog like I should I put her in the back yard and go back to sleep.

6:25 – 7:25 a.m. Alarm goes off every ten minutes. I hit snooze until I realize how late I am.

7:26 a.m. Decide if I need to shower. If so, take quick one and spend all of 30 seconds combing my hair. If not, take extra five minutes to find outfit that could possibly match if I was color blind.

7:45 a.m. Leave for work. Realize the morning sickness hits when I am hungry. Bring Cherios with me.

7:50 a.m. Get to work. Spend all morning trying to avoid the wrath of my pissed off boss who is in town for the next two weeks. Attempt to stay awake during the lovely bouts of fatigue that seem to be taking over my body. Every time my boss yells I almost bust into tears, but act like my contact is bothering me.

12:00 p.m. Realize I will puke if I don’t eat. Forgot lunch again. Go to local grocery store and try to find something that won’t make me wretch.

12:20 p.m. Return to work. Repeat morning schedule.

5:30 p.m. Try to get out of office on time. Head out to work on wedding stuff.

9:00 p.m. Get home. Try to call back people I’ve missed. Exhaustion kicks in. Try and stay awake to check work emails. Fall asleep in bed.

10:30 p.m. Wake up to pee.

11:30 p.m. Wake up to pee.

12:30 a.m. Wake up to pee.

Now you are all caught up! Hope this helps the few of you I haven’t been able to get back to.

Now it’s starting to hit me.

This weekend I started to realize how drastically my life has changed in the past two weeks. I went home to tell my dad he’s going to be a grandpa and ended up staying Saturday night at a friend’s house. Basically, I was too much of a weenie to go to my dad’s on Saturday, so I put it off until Sunday. My friend (Hi Abbs!) had promised a few others that we would go out to the bars with them, and I, being the complete dumbass that I am, thought I should probably go socialize, because in a month it’ll be a bit strange for the pregnant girl to be hanging out at college bars. I drank water, avoided smoke and watched drunk people act completely ridiculous. And honestly, I didn’t really want to join in. I had no problem saying no to drinking. It was the left-out feeling that was worse than the lack of alcohol in my body.

Every time a boy looked at me or started to hit on me I wanted to stare at him and say, “Seriously, I’m pregnant. You really want to hit on me?” That would scare them off! And more than anything, I realized my life will never be the same. Especially for the next seven months. I guess at first I thought everyone would take a break from the partying because I had to, but this is obviously not a reality. I don’t want everyone to stop having fun because poor, pregnant Megan can’t go out. Even Trent, who has been more than wonderful throughout this whole thing, is going to get drunk on Jager and Red Bull and have his buddies over. I’m still going to come home to beer cans on the porch and throughout the house. Just, hopefully, not as often.

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