Last night was a pretty boring night. Didn’t do much, ate taquitos for dinner, and watched some Ghost Hunters before bed.

Now, you hear all the time about pregnant women who are over emotional and crazy and I fall into that category no problem. I’m already that way prepregnancy, so being pregnant just adds that extra kick to the crazy. The last pregnancy I worried about zombies.

Not just worrying about them, but being up all night thinking about them. Crying about them. Planning for them. If we ever get attacked by zombies, you had better find me, because I will totally survive. You probably will not.

So, last night, after I turn off Ghost Hunters and lay down, I start thinking about how awful it would be to be trapped in my house as a ghost and not be with my family who I assume would still be alive. And moved out. I plan my sad scenarios pretty well, thankyouverymuch. So I start to cry. And not like, oh, a tear rolled down my face cry. Like ughugyhgugughggughghg boohooing bawling crying like an idiot. I would have laughed, but I was overcome with the horror and anger at having people move into my house and having my family so far away.

I’m awesome.