Literally. I have no idea where the next 12 weeks are goign to attempt to expand into.
I keep forgetting it's there, with unintentionally hilarious results. Like getting stuck in the car door because I assume I have plenty of room when I don't. Or closing the fridge on it. Or spilling food on it. Or thinking I have something on my shoe and looking down to check and realising I cannot see my feet!
The end of the week cruised into the station with nary a glance behind at the carnage of the beginning and I find myself looking very forward to not thinking about it any more.
I had an OB appt on Thursday and I am doing very well, but have been instructed to slow down. When I insisted I was being slow for me I was told that I was stubborn. Well d'uh. It's not like I've heard *that* before! But I have been pretty good, and as you can see The Possum is certainly growing (we shan't mention the rest of me).
I have my timetable now for the rest of my working year and I will be doing 45 hour weeks with the occasional 15 hour shift. My feet are already crying at the thought, but it's only 7 more weeks until I'm on leave. The nice thing is I will earn quite a lot of money (compared to now), which will supplement the meagre Baby Bonus to count as my "maternity leave". I know talking about money is tacky but it makes the world go round etc.
Anyhow, that's it. In case you were wondering if I'd jumped off the end of the World.