Enough with the pity party. I don’t think I will figure out
the bigger questions of life by tonight, unless I drink the whole bottle of
wine and get all philosophical. And I won’t do that, even though I want to. After all, the doctor told me that this pregnancy is pretty much a done
deal so technically speaking I might as well be drinking again. I'm just sitting here in limbo. The doctor's office never called me back with my blood results. So even though I know it's over, I will be sitting all weekend with the nagging little thought that it aint over ‘till the
fat lady sings. Or calls, in this case (not that I'm implying that my
doctor is fat or anything…).
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