Last night, I had just woken up from a strange dream in which I had given birth and then made myself a cheeseburger. Then (while I was awake) some metaphorical, diabolical iron fist grabbed hold of my left calf muscle and attempted to squeeze all the muscle juices out of it. Otherwise known as a charley horse.
Basically, I was lying in my bed for however long it lasted, whimpering like the way my Labradoodle does when she can't find a place to hide her chewy bone. When I woke up this morning, my leg was tighter than the JoBros' pants. I felt like such a gimp limping around my room, taking my clothes off so I could limp to the shower.
Maybe this was some weird way of making up for the fact that when I gave birth in my dream, I didn't feel a thing. I do want kids someday, but I don't think any kid I could make would be worth that much pain. Sorry baby, mamaleh needs an epidural, and we'll all be happier because of it. I'm definitely going to be one of those in your face pregnant ladies who bitchslaps anyone dumb enough to preach natural childbirth to me. Also, that cheeseburger I made and ate after having a baby was mad tasty. Especially considering I fashioned it on something resembling the panini machine in SAGA (the dining hall for any non-Hampshire people reading this.)
Speaking of awesome food I make, the HampStore finally restocked their Annie's microwaveable mac and cheese. I celebrated by making two packs of it once SAGA closed (at the unholy hour of 7pm) and I was feeling peckish. I was a little out of practice since the HampStore had been out of stock; to my utter relief I was able to get the perfect water to noodle ratio sans measuring cup.
Oh Christ when did it become 19 minutes to Tuesday? I'd better think about starting some of that reading. Or maybe I'll just go to bed early and read the stuff in the morning. We'll see.
Peace, Love, and Semicolons,
Lisa
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