Yesterday proved to be yet another topper to what I thought couldn't possibly get more stressful. I'm not re-hashing it on here for the sake of my own sanity and for anyone reading that's just heard enough about our crazy move...or lack there-of.
I'm a planner. I like to be given an "assignment", even if I'm the one doing the assigning, and then get it done. I don't like to let things pile up on my to-do list.
I'm a perfectionist. Things need to be done up to my standards. Although this side of me has started to diminish a bit since bringing Hannah home from the hospital, it's still there. And it awakens just a tad more when I'm in a situation that allows me absolutely NO control.
Our mortgage paperwork is still residing on a woman named Margaret's desk. It's untouched. Since Friday. It's Thursday. I've been told repeatedly to pray that she has a good cup of coffee in the morning and had a wonderful evening with her family. Really?! So that's how it's decided who gets approved for a mortgage and who doesn't? Come on.
And back to some other topic. So, here I sit on my comfy couch, once again curled up with my blanket. It's still dark outside, and it's quiet. No one is awake yet, and so my thoughts ring loudly in my head. I won't go into that, because I'm sure by now you know what those thoughts consist of.
I'm 38 weeks and 3 days pregnant today. Baby is still movin' and shakin' and apparently enjoying her time in her warm cocoon. I've had contractions on and off the last few days and we're all just waiting for the real thing. Any time now!
Since I don't have much else to say unless I begin babbling about our mortgage situation which I absolutely can not control, I'll leave you with a picture of my sweet girl.
I hear a baby stirring upstairs.
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