I'm 3 1/2 months pregnant. I'm sick. I'm miserable. I hate everyone.
We beach camp every year. Weather reports for this weekend forecast miserable, hot, and muggy. While everyone is cooling down with an ice cold beer, I'll be chugging water, trying my best to bury barf in the sand.
I'm in some fairly tense negotiations at work. Thanks to the crowded calendars of my team, I had to schedule three meetings this week and I'll miss the first few days of camping.
"Honey! We've had this planned for 6 months! You can't work around it?" my husband asked, annoyed.
"I'm sorry, I did my best but I can't miss these meetings" I said honestly.
...And I've got a standing date with my DVR, several episodes of the Real Housewives of the OC and Judge Judy, a Rubio's Baja Grill Burrito - extra guac, no salsa fresca, Air-Conditioning, and a warm shower.
Not exactly suffering.... but no one has to know...