that's how I feel right now.
I ended up spending a little over three hours at the labor and delivery department on Monday, due to having some contractions.
Turns out I was dehydrated.
Don't they know how much water I've been drinking?!
Apparently not, and it's obviously not enough.
So now I'm schlepping around my half-gallon water jug, which I refill periodically throughout the day.
In between bathroom runs.
Since I'm only 33 weeks (and change) pregnant, it's definitely way too soon to be giving birth, I have about 3 to 4 weeks to go.
I had an appointment with the perinatal specialist today (gestational diabetes, but I really don't want to talk about that, needles, ugh!), and he pointed out to me that I'm basically carrying the weight of a full-term baby already, since twin A is 4 pounds, 1 ounce, and twin B is 4 pounds, 6 ounces.
"That's why you're so miserable", he said!
Thanks for pointing that out to me, Doc, like my gigantic, monstrous belly isn't a clue?!
In other news today:
Why the hell can't old farts keep their shirts on when they take the trash out?
Is it some kind of AARP rule I don't know about?
Seriously, while my daughter and I were cruising toward home in the apartment complex, we observed TWO old men, 30 seconds and about 500 feet apart, taking their respective trash bags to their respective dumpsters sans shirts.
Why couldn't it have been some hunky guys in their twenties, huh, huh???
Is it so difficult to provide some eye-candy for the (sexually) deprived?
Life's not fair.
Well, at least they kept their pants on.
(H/T to Big Dick, whose link you'll find to the right, for spoiling my appetite)
(Blogger is being a BITCH and won't let me put the link in this post!!!)