Sometimes I hate being right.

Turns out no matter how long I stare at this keyboard, I'm never, ever going to find a word to adequately describe this week.  I'll try metaphor instead.

When I said before that I was unsettled, it was "oooh, maybe that second egg salad sandwich was a bad idea" unsettled.  You know, like maybe I'm chugging my way to the top of a rollercoaster and the pit of my stomach is in knots, but I figure a million people have done this before me and I'll just close my eyes and squeeze my butt cheeks together and it'll all be fine in the end.

This week, though, the rollercoaster car I was in left the tracks completely, took a nose dive in to the parking lot, and exploded in an orange ball of flame.  Forget the egg salad bellyache, I was 4 months pregnant again heaving up chocolate soy milk so fast it was still cold coming out my nose.

What I am trying to say is that this week was simply unbelievable.  You wouldn't believe it even if I spilled all the gritty details, which, unfortunately, I can't dump all over the internet.

For now, I am going to take a deep breath, shake out my arms, and enjoy this brilliantly timed long holiday weekend.  I want to eat myself silly on burgers and potato salad, and show Bug her very first fireworks.  It's going to be great.

Oh yeah, and I'll try to remember to open my eyes and  unclench my butt cheeks.