Blame it on Baby Brain

I hear a lot of talk about pregnant women being forgetful. It's a great excuse for those of us who are forgetful in our non-gestational state. Ryan laughed when someone said I was so spacey because of the baby. He knows better.

So, I forgot to call Swell tonight. Sorry. After frantically tidying my work space and finishing up a few odds and ends I had to dash home and eat my oh-so delicious hummus platter that I had the foresight to order from Blue Willow catering at lunch time because I knew I would be too rushed after work to make anything healthy and fast food would be way too tempting and while scarfing down my hummus I had to finish reading my chapters in Organic God and wait for a woman from work to come and pick up my coffee table that was going to a garage sale to benefit a woman with cancer and who has no health insurance and I had to tidy up the house just a little to make it presentable to my girlfriends who know better than to expect a super neat house - but I can try anyway. All within a half an hour.

The coffee table was picked up, I ate half of my hummus and got 1/4 of the way through the last chapter of what I was to have read and I forgot to de-fur the house. Heather is allergic to cats and I normally sweep and take a lint brush to the couch and stuffed chair followed by a wipe down with a damp cloth. Poor Heather had a few sneezing episodes.

I gave the Taco joint one day to respond to my complaint about the fingernail in my drink. They failed. Tomorrow I will go in with cup in hand that has the fingernail taped to it to restaurant and let them know of the prize I found in my drink. I think having a pregnant woman at the counter talking about a fingernail in her drink cup should turn a few heads. I gave them a day to contact me which isn't that much time but when it's something as gross as this they should be a little bit more responsive.

Tomorrow promises to be another full day. Les Schwab at 8 for new brakes. I will have to hang out in Georgetown for an hour and a half while they work on the car unless Meg returns my call because she was going to meet me down there so we could go have coffee. It would be nice to see her and it sure beats hanging out in the Les Schwab waiting area and at the McDonald's across the parking lot. (This neighborhood is not such a fun place to be - very industrial with a lot of no-tell motels and fast food joints).

After I visit Mr. Schwab I get to go to a place and have the car's oil changed in a Jiffy. Then off to replace my cheap walking shoes that I left at Ryan's boss' house on Saturday at the company picnic in Port Orchard. (We went from there straight to a wedding on Fox Island). At least the shoes were cheap. And before I cross the bridge to go back to Beacon Hill - I have a little stop to make where I pick a bone about a fingernail.

After the bone picking I have to pack my bags for vacation, set the cats up with entirely too much food because Gwen is part pig and can't stop eating. She gets so fat when we are gone for more than a few days.

Ah! So much to do. And poor Ryan has even more to do. He's going into work early tomorrow so he can write some memos that have to go out before he can responsibly leave. He's bringing a work laptop with us so he can do some work while we are hanging out at the beach. That's actually not a bad idea because I plan on reading magazines, baby books, doing puzzles and doing a lot of sleeping. Oh, glorious sleep! I should head off to get some right now.

But first an update on Red Van Man turned Red Station Wagon Man.

He's gone. He hasn't been here in a couple of weeks.

Tonight Ryan saw a cop car across the street. We couldn't see who the cops were talking to but we think it was whoever was in the van on the corner almost out of our sight. We think our neighbors called the cops this time. See, the neighborhood isn't all that bad. Why tonight we had live Polka music to entertain us in our bible study. Nothing breaks the silence quite like a tuba solo.