How Do You Know He's Not My Sidekick? - 13 Weeks

I don't know if it was all the popcorn and soda I had at the theater yesterday, the italian soda I had at Daily Grind (instead of what I really wanted, coffee!), or Kevin Smith, but I was overcome by sudden gut-wrenching vomiting last night after Ian and I finished watching the comentary for Dogma - we've (I've) been on a Kevin Smith kick lately. Man, just as I'm rounding the corner to the second trimester safe zone - It's probably karma for thinking "ha I made it through the first trimester without morning sickness!". Though I don't know if this has more to do with the pregnancy or the unusually large amount of sugar I had yesterday.

I have to go back to the doctor again next week, and of course I'm fearing the worst with all the tests I had to do this week - I brought my jug back to the lab and there were like 3 doctors taking a break with the lab tech so I said "uh, I'm bringing back a sample...?" and the lab tech asks "what is it?". Um, obviously they hired her for her discretion. So I turn really red and manage to say "a lot of urine". Then she proceeds to draw several viles of blood and I have to pee in a cup again.

Poor Ian though, he hurt his back at work last week - he finally got some drugs, which as it turns out, are pretty good. He's been walking around in an oxycontin-induced haze for the last two days. We're quite a pair.

And (I'm not complaining or anything here) to top it all off, I have several things due next week, two exams, and we've got a match against Eastern Washington University's mock trial team tomorrow morning. This is probably why most people wait until they're done with college to have babies.