So we meet again, old friend.
Friend? No. Not really. I kind of despise you.
Last night we had a short, but excruciating encounter.My 6 weeks were up and I felt the need to hate you again.
Notice how dusty you are. That is your fault.
If you weren't so awful to me you might have had more use in the last 9 months, aside from the 3 days I abused your evil powers in an effort to induce labor.
...where you failed miserably, leaving me pregnant still...and just as sweaty and uncomfortable as always.
It's time we spent more time together...but not for another 6 days. You FOOLED me into thinking 6 weeks had passed, but it had indeed, only been 5. What a sucker I was to come running back to you so eagerly. I will take my 6 more days and enjoy them. Guilt free.
You can remain in the corner of my living room, collecting dust, while I remain curled up on the sofa, stuffing my face with ice cream and watching the people on TV sweat.
In 6 days you will have your chance to mend our relationship. You were not kind to me last night. I don't appreciate the joke...and a joke it was-that was the longest mile of my life. Please be good to me. I promise to wear deodorant and bring good music.
Until we meet again...
Meg-o
