These are my confessions

Since I have been trouble sleeping at night (pregnancy makes me more of an insomniac than I already am), I have compiled a list of totally random things I want to get off my chest.

• I hate being pregnant. It sucks. I know that many women glow and shine when they're pregnant, but I don't. My house is a disaster because all I feel like doing is lying on the couch and moaning. I cannot stand the smell of my kitchen, so that is a total gong show, and everything I want to eat has tons of salt, loads of trans fat, and about 5000 calories. Bring me my fat pants!


• I do not care for lobster. I don't know what all the fuss is about.


• I wish that I could leave Sacha with a sitter once in a while so that I could have time to actually be myself again.


• To my locker neighbour in high school: I had a crush on you, but I was too embarrassed to say anything because you considered to be dorky (like I'm not a dork, I know...). I was super glad that you were my locker buddy for 4 years, because it gave me a chance to hang with you without anyone wondering why. I am such a tool.


• I once heard a guy refer to me a "chubby, not the kind of girl you date." This was a decisive moment in the start of my weight issues, leading to anorexia and then learning how to live with it (I don't believe that you can truly be cured of it).


• I often feel left out from my sisters, who are a lot closer to each other than they are to me. I must have been too much of a bitch to them growing up. Wait, I know I was to Talia. Still am, even from thousands of km away. How do I do that??


• Paul: I miss my friends a lot, but I miss you most because I miss how you seemed to look up to me and ask me for advice, help with school, and how I felt like you needed me, but then again, even if I was still living close to you, you really wouldn't need me anymore.


• I have not touched my knitting needles in 3 weeks. The thought of knitting makes me nauseous. I don't understand the reason behind it, but it's true. Same goes for reading. Books = pukeville.


• I am scared of what Sacha is going to do when I am in the hospital having the baby. No family here, no one he's comfortable with to stay with. I am fearing the worst.


• I miss my mom. I wish she had holidays left so that she could come take care of me and Sacha so that I could be gross and sick and my house would not fall apart.


• I need to make supper, but the though of cooking makes me want to yak, and I've already ordered take-out way too many times this week. Did I mention that I hate being pregnant? Maybe I'll have some ice cream. Ew, no, I think I just threw up in my mouth a bit from thinking of it.