Decisions, Decisions

So it cracks me up what percentage of my decisions these days are based SOLEY upon whether I think I will throw up. I'd say 25% of my thoughts are centered around avoiding hurling. Seriously, if I think I'm likely to hurl, I don't care how important it is- it's a deal breaker. It just ain't gonna happen. Of course, another 20% involves what and where I think I can acquire food that I can eat. Add to that the "mmm. What can I take off my plate so that I can get some rest?" (Another 15%), and there just isn't much left.

That's right---So basically folks, I'm walking around with less than half a brain. Like a hormone crazed teenager who's only thoughts are about boys (ya, I remember when I was that girl). Except now the survival instinct in play is how to keep myself and this baby alive (rather than how to get JoeBob to notice me). My life is monopolized by my hormones.

For the record, taking care of my amazingly kind husband and absolutely delightfully energetic little boy consume another 30%. With 10% left over for other family, work, church, housekeeping, and anything else that might normally be important to me.

So, If you are in that other 10% and I acknowledge your existance at all, it is an act of undeniable love. 'Cause this chica doesn't move from sleeping position for just anybody/ anything. Even a simple phone call...that requires me to acquire my phone when I'm not sleeping, too exhausted to move or talk, trying to acquire food, or too naucious to look the phone.