Rewind.
Last night, in a true display of crazy pregnant lady, JL supplied me with authentic Anglo Mexicanese cuisine for dinner and so, for the last few hours, I have been happily nibbling away on Cafe Rio leftovers. (I ate all of my sweet and sour pork last night. In case you're curious, it was heaven.) There may also have been a display of emotional clingy me. JL was supposed to leave for Spring City last night and then get up early with his dad and vamoose. We got him packed, I may have cried just a smidge, he got out the door, he got in the car, he called his father, and he came back inside. I'd be ashamed, but I kind of love the man, so I'm not.
I am, however, ashamed by the dream I had the other night in which I was an assassin (that's right, someone who kills people for money) with a new baby trying to lose the last few pounds of baby weight. I must admit that in my dream I was more concerned with the weight loss than the moral implications of my job. And I have seen Grosse Pointe Blank, so I should know better. I mean, really, did John Cusack teach me nothing?
*sigh*
I miss my husband.
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