It's a cold rainy day.
Seventy minutes spent at the doctor's office, hearing hacking coughs and staring at a sea of face masks.
My pumpkin self-destructed minutes before I finished my masterpiece.
I haven't worked out since Saturday.
The house is a wholly mess and I'm dying for a glass of wine.
My shoe is making a sticky noise when I walk across the kitchen floor.
I am choosing to believe that it's my shoe that is dirty, not my floor.
Last night I hid in the bath tub during dinner time.
This morning I found myself being annoyed at two very tiny, very cold feet pressed up against my belly.
I picked up my friend from the airport and darn near ran out of gas on the way there, making me late to pick up a lovely, punctual, pregnant lady.
My headache keeps returning and my child is considered contagious.
I can't find a way to keep my feet warm and there are six piles of laundry on the basement floor.
During nap time I uploaded pictures from last week, when the sun was shining, and remembered, in spite of it all, to smile.