Started my official leave today, and it was odd. I woke up 'normal' time and puttered around the house for half an hour, staring at the cats, and psyching myself up to stop hurting and start going places. After a short delusional period, in which I considered just staying home and reading all day, I got up and went to the banks. Yes, plural. I had to deposit rent into the rental properties account, and baby shower money (thank you, family Oh) into the joint checking.
After doing this, I meandered over to Starbucks for an early early lunch. Well, it was early to me. To the rest of humanity it was nearing lunch time. After a few moments, I called my mother who had a short, terse conversation with me. It appears she's in a better mood about our last fight, but we're both still slightly upset, I would take it. I tried faking happiness during the call, but it didn't work well.
After that, it was time to get my eyebrows waxed! (I hope to look somewhat okay in photos with the baby.) I also made an appointment for a cut since the ends of my hair now look hideous. A short bit later, I was at the grocery store, buying Pledge and some ingredients for lasagna.
I came home, tired and achy. I spent about five minutes at home before I realized the gigantic package outside our house was Paul's birthday present and I had better get it inside and wrapped, which I did. I had BARELY enough paper, and it was pink paper, so now I have a gigantic present that's wrapped for the birthday of a ten year old girl. It does have cupcakes on it, though, which is a positive.
After doing this, I started to polish all the furniture in the house, as well as Windex several windows and glass panels in our house. I also swept up the nursery and despaired of it ever being fully completed. There is still a swing and bouncer to set up as well as several things to move to the attic. I can't do it alone, though, tomorrow I might try to tackle the bouncer. If I continue to wait for Paul, nothing will ever be completed. I might also move the carseat inset to the car. Why can't it be there? I might not, however, since Paul doesn't want it there.
After all this, I finally finished packing my labor bag. I finally said screw it to the birth plan. I know what my plan is -- give me drugs and lots of them. If I need a c-section urgently to prevent harm to my baby or I, please do it. That's my plan. Also, please bring me ice. I'm anemic and I need to chew on it or I'll die. (That last part might be a bit exaggerated, but all I can think of is ice-chewing nowadays. I watched Iron Chef tonight and watching someone poor ice all over some fish made me very hungry for ICE.)
I hung around a bit on IM in case my replacement needed help, but got no IMs, so I just bothered Paul and E a bit. Doing some review of my labor bag also brought me to mind that I had realized I needed a 'baby memory book'. I remembered seeing some at Michaels, or so I thought, so I decided on a trip there. I also decided to pick up some possible iron-ons (for onesies), a book on how to make cards, some edible glitter, and possibly some cotton for knitting dishclothes.
I got to Michaels, realized they didn't have baby memory books. Depressed, I went through the iron-on aisles and thought that iron-ons were much cooler when one knew the gender of one's baby. (A pink and black skull onesie is cute for a girl, but I'd prefer the gigantic cupcake for a boy.) Also, it's hard to put 'Daddy's girl' on a onesie if I don't know if I'm having a girl. The card making section had tons of materials for making cards, but not a single book or kit on how to make them. Considering my attempts on flying blindly into scrapbooking, I wisely backed off. By that time, I was too depressed to get any yarn or edible glitter, and I simply left.
I then decided I wanted Dairy Queen ice cream, only to drive past it and decide it was too expensive. That's my problem with life -- when I want to shop or eat by myself, everything is too expensive. I have a mental block on spending money in some weird way. I actually need Paul there to prod me into buying anything besides books.
After all this, I realized I was right next to Hallmark and I was able to buy Paul's birthday cards, which I promptly did. I considered the single gender-neutral baby memory book they had, and decided against it when I realized it called for a letter from the father to the baby. In ten years of being with him, I couldn't get Paul to write me a single love letter. I doubt he's writing to this baby.
Got home, and started the lasagna. It was a fairly easy recipe, but I decided to clean the kitchen after I was done and had it in the oven.
Sat down at the computer after, and felt like I had been lazy and gotten nothing done, which caused me to cry. I love pregnancy hormones. To summarize: I did a ton of stuff, felt lazy regardless, got a guilt trip about my mother, ached in my lower back for about 60% of the day, got two shots, cried, and planned for my outings tomorrow.
I am terrified of labor, and I still cannot wait for it. I'm going insane. I'm afraid that if left alone for two full weeks, I might decide to actually repaint some portion of the house with cheap-o paint because it will simply make me feel less lazy.