You know you’re not blogging enough when you forget your password to log into your blog. Time for something to change. I’m just three weeks away from my due date, which means 12 weeks off of work. If I can’t find time to write then, I never will. I asked Steve for an hour glass sand timer for my birthday. It’s for me to write one hour a day – I will just tip it over and sit at the computer until the hour is up or Brandon starts crying, whichever comes first.
Steve did get me a sand timer, but it’s only for half an hour. He said it’s more realistic this way (between you and me, I think he just bought me the half hour because it was cheaper). Steve is probably right. Thirty minutes is probably plenty ambitious for someone who can’t remember her blog password. But I’m still in the market for an hour glass. Might as well make your goals big while their still goals and before they become a list stashed away somewhere that you forget all about like your New Year’s Resolutions.
It has never been some sort of endurance test or anything, but I do need to brag that I have worn heels to work every day until today. Honestly, I didn’t want to look like That Slubby Pregnant Woman and I’ve always wanted to be taller, so it has been completely out of vanity. Of course it wasn’t for comfort. Those freaks who say they’re most comfortable in six-inch stilettos must not own a pair of flats.
So I almost made it to the bitter end four inches taller than my 5’7″ self, but halfway through today, that all changed. I bought a pair of ugly, practical shoes like I used to wear in my restaurant days. God, they’re ugly. But God, they’re comfortable. The second I switched my shoes in my car, I breathed a sigh of relief. No more shoving hippo feet into baby shoes. That’s basically how it felt, with how huge my feet have become. I am a half size below clown shoes.
Tomorrow I’ll go to work as That Slubby Pregnant Woman, but I had a pretty good run looking presentable for a vast majority of it. I say that in and of itself is quite the feat. Like I said, make your goals big in the beginning. Big as clown shoes.