Deepish Wednesday

Hi guys,
Sorry I'm bad at this blogging thing lately. It's not you, it's me. My mind and my days (not to mention my belly) are very full, and I keep hoping that somehow the blog will just populate itself with words--not just any words, but the words that really describe what's going on with me here in San Francisco, in my life of working at home and being 31 weeks pregnant. And waking up at least 4 times a night to pee, or because it's raining really loud. Or because, like last night, I really needed a bowl (ok, two bowls) of cereal. But it turns out that if I don't write this blog, no one does. So that's good to know.

I haven't really had any weird cravings during my pregnancy, with the exception of being completely obsessed with sugar. But that's not really weird, not anything fun like craving things that totally do not go together: chocolate and avocados, sausages and cottage cheese, black beans and strawberries. What lunatic would eat those things together? They sound gross.

Tonight as I was walking home from yoga, the air smelled exactly like cannoli. So for three blocks I obsessed over how much I wanted to eat cannoli. But we didn't have any cannoli at home. So I ate couscous. I never said it was an interesting story.

My sister has moved in with us, which is pretty amazing. She got a job in San Francisco at an ad agency, and swiftly left her life, dog and boyfriend in Los Angeles. Boyfriend Rob (you may know him as Stan) and dog Rigby are coming up in February and then we will all be one big happy family, although they will have their own house, because otherwise I think Rigby would eat our cats. Sometimes I think I would like to feed them to a dog, when they're screaming and running around at night because they spent their whole day sleeping, just waiting for their chance to torment us. But Liz and Rob appear to want their own place, and I have to respect that. Smokey and Emma will get a reprieve. For now. Rob's tactic when they're acting like animals is to throw balled up socks at them. When I get up in the morning, I am greeted by our long hallway filled with sock balls.

Among the things I wonder: how will the cats react to having a baby in the house? Will Rob throw sock balls at the baby when she wakes us up at night? Does my brain stop working correctly after a certain time of day...like, around now?