Unlike our robin friend here who saw a future stretching much farther than the end of his beak when he went flying into a window at my parents' house, nothing tragic has befallen me.
No mishaps, no scrapes (except zesting the skin off my knuckle the other day), no trips to the hospital. Just daily blah, and bleh, and boo hoo for kicks.
And while I may be sick, exhausted, and feeling so emotional that I'm starting to wonder if I'm clinically depressed, I'm hanging there. Fortunately, I mostly keep it together around people in public (a very good thing), but in private I'm not in any mood to scribble about my day. Hence, very little chirping in blogland.
We'll just call it a huge bummer and leave that as the perfectly good reason why I haven't been writing.
And not just here, by the way. I'm hardly writing anywhere--Facebook or Twitter or article submissions for the Journal of Craziness. Even Desmond's appearance on Lost (and he's the best character there is!) hardly cheered me up. Ugh. I'm open to non-drug suggestions about clearing away moodiness whilst pregnant. I admit, this picture of the deceased robin does cheer me up, but I'm not relying on it to provide any long-lasting cure.
Anyway. I'm still here, just quiet.
Five months left, and then relief...from the morning sickness anyway. A different kind of beautiful exhaustion awaits me, but one that I'm looking forward to.
Next Friday the 23rd is the gender ultrasound, so I'm destined to at least write something then...