Hunger.

I can't stop with the eating lately. All the time with the eating. If it's edible, it's going in my mouth.

For example, I just polished off the rest of goldfish crackers and now I'm itching to scarf down some more twizzlers. This is after eating a generous amount of junior mints and a handful of tortilla chips. You'd think maybe I didn't have dinner tonight, but you would be wrong. I had 1/2 frontega chicken panini and 1/2 chicken pomodoro panini with a bag of chips at Panera Bread.

What. The. Hell.

I know it's not a baby. Maybe a tapeworm? It's got to stop, though. I'm bloating up in a not-so-attractive manner. No wonder my tights kept rolling down today.

One of my coworkers is also trying to get pregnant and just finished her first round of Clomid. Unfortunately it won't be her last. She told me this morning it didn't work. My heart hurts for her, but it's so good to know there is someone else there who is going through the same thing. We're both keeping this just between the two of us. We work with a bunch of nosy opinionated bitches, and neither of us wants to be asked every five minutes if we're knocked up. I'll most likely start Clomid next month and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that K is pregnant by then.

We still haven't bought any Christmas cards. At this point it's too late to buy the cards I really want because they won't get here in time, so now I'll have to settle for crappy cards just so I can get them out before the year is over. Some day I'll have my shit together...some day.

The call of the twizzler is strong. I must resist, yet the beast in my belly must be quieted.

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