It's true. I've become a lump. A big lump on the couch. I go to work. I drive home, eat supper, watch some Law and Order, and go to bed. It's almost 8:45 right now, and my eyes are watering I'm so tired. I want to run. I want to work in the yard. I want to not be so flipping exhausted all the time.
I'm feeling whiny. I just want to curl up on my mattress (that's in the living room until we get the floor replaced in our bedroom this weekend) with my cats and sleep. But that won't happen. No way. My cats are now on Sean's schedule, and want to be up all night. I got jumped on the other night. Sam landed on my face, in all of his 11 pound glory. He's currently sliding across the floor, because we Pledged it.
Complaining aside, I'm so grateful to be where I am. I go Friday to the doctor and should hopefully hear Dot's heartbeat for the first time. I've got no reason to think there's anything wrong, but I'll still feel better once I hear it. Now, if only I could convince him/her that I really do prefer to eat and keep it all down.
And one day soon, I'll start walking/running again. I'm feeling miserably lazy, which is contributing to my lump status. But the treadmill doesn't sound fun, and it's finally getting to the point that it's daylight when I get home. Or I could workout during my lunch break (instead of catnapping in my office floor).
Ok, I'm going to bed now. I can get 9 hours of sleep if I lay down now! That should get me through tomorrow!