Puh-thetic!

You should have seen me this morning...I was crying by the toilet. Ah, the pathos! I'd finally had it and indulged in a pity party. I've had a sore throat for days now, then it brought some friends to stay named Cough and Congestion. I lost my voice and have squeaked and sqwaked instead of conversed. I haven't slept well because I can't breathe and I can't indulge in NyQuil or anything that actually works because of the bun in my oven. I've had so much lemon and honey over the past four days it's coming out of my pores. (That and I have permanent peppermint Tums breath courtesy of the worst heartburn I've ever experienced in a pregnancy.) You might think that I'd get a pass from morning sickness in light of my other annoying problems, but no. So, this morning after a rotten night's sleep and family scripture study that I vaguely remember involved the Last Supper, I went to the bathroom to heave up my guts. In my hurry to avail myself of the facilities, I didn't ensure that the toilet seat was securely up and it came crashing down on my nose. (I have a fantastic bruise.) That was really...just...it. I sat on the bathmat and cried and felt sorry for myself. I knew I was indulging in useless tears but it made me feel better and helped to clear my sinuses. Plus Chad was so sweet (he's actually always that way but I was extra appreciative this morning). I think this will be one of those moments that will be super, extra funny when my life's history is replayed before the Lord. We'll have a good laugh then; it's actually decently funny now.