Bored.

Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored. Fo real. Everything is done. I'm supposed to "take it easy" and relax. Relaxing? Is boring! I'm not good at sitting around watching TV because my attention span is too short. I've already read 250 pages of a 900 page book in two days. I'm out of magazines, my Netflix movies have been returned, the house is relatively clean, I have nothing to write about, the baby book is as filled in as I can make it, I'm bathed, the nursery is done, the dishwasher's unloaded. I even made some hotel reservations for a wedding in April. What's a body to do? I am living for my book club meeting at 7:00 tonight. I get to see people! Yes!

Gus committed his first act of vandalism upon the nursery today. We knew it was coming, it was just a matter of when. He absconded with a small stuffed pig from the bookshelf and disappeared under the dining room table to show it who was boss. Crawling around under the table after him was about the most exercise I've had today. We are not currently speaking. He keeps casting pouty looks my way and won't come sit with me. Twerp.

My fish hates me. I hate my fish. The fish, you might remember, was lovingly bestowed upon me for my birthday in April because my classroom had a fish theme. I like to decorate with fish in hopes that I might have a beach house someday when I'm rich and famous. I also like to eat fish. I do not, contrary to popular belief, like to own fish. Especially single fish in small bowls like a betta. My over-riding guilt complex kicks in and I pity them for being stuck in this cramped jar and feel like I should have to entertain it. It's hard to entertain a fish. You can't pet it or teach it tricks or tie its ears together. Nothing. It just eats and quite honestly, this fish isn't even very good at that. I drop the fish pellets right in front of it and it turns in cirlces, panicking because it can't find the food, then knocks it down so it sinks to the bottom and it's something else nasty I have to clean out of its bowl. I hate fish. But I have to keep this one because I'm friends with the mom of the child who orchestrated the gift and she will notice if the fish disappears. Argh.

Have you ever noticed that the people who give the most unsolicited advice always start out by talking about how they hate when people give unsolicited advice? For example: "I know everyone will tell you how they did it over and over again and you just have to ignore them! What's with people? You just have to remember that bottle feeding is the only way to go." or some such nonsense. Those people are usually in pretty thick with the "Just You Wait" people too. I've been getting a lot of phone calls lately from people seeing if I'm still pregnant (Yes, thank you for pointing that out) and they are often accompanied by a frenzy of last minute advice.

Say, if I'm going to make and freeze a sausage and egg casserole, do you think I should cook it before freezing or no? Everything else I've frozen is made and ready to be cooked, but I wondered if that's something you should do with eggs. I'm not an expert on the freezing properties of eggs.