I have hit that exciting milestone of three months to go.
I was told there would be nesting.
THERE HAS BEEN NO NESTING.
Unless 'nesting' means 'filling my house with absurdly useless scraps of paper and twigs.' If 'nesting' is the same thing as building an actual birds' nest, well, this household definitely has that covered. Although the pets are the ones bringing in the twigs. I'm just the one cursing in quite the unladylike manner while sweeping it up every two days. And then going to bed at 9 pm because oh good, the fatigue is back. Although that might have something to do with the part where I've begun waking up five times a night, sometimes for no apparent reason. Which is always a party.
On the other hand, I appear to have upped my ability to speed-read in a serious way. It's like I'm desperately trying to read anything and everything that is remotely interesting before August when the sleep-deprivation will probably mean I no longer speak English, let alone read it. I am looking forward to discovering what new and interesting gutteral caveman-language I come up with when I haven't slept in two weeks. Anthrpologists will no doubt want to study me.
So there you go.
Delight in the magic and wonder that is my life.
I had a to-do list for today around here somewhere. I suppose it tells you something that it's 4 in the afternoon and I just realized I have no idea what I did with it after I wrote the stupid thing on Saturday. I'm not sure what exactly it tells you, but... definitely something.