Frosted Flake

Pregnancy fries your brain! I have chanted that mantra for six pregnancies now. And I still believe it with all my heart. This past few weeks has been an exceptional display of flaky Amber-ness. Just the other day, I had the singular experience of burning a pound of bacon to a useless crisp while I was sitting less than five feet away, supposedly keeping an eye on it. I don't burn food very often. And never in such a spectacularly dumb way. I've been walking around in a thick fog of minimum comprehension since my first trimester. I mean, it cleared up for May-June-July, but it has thickened deeper and darker ever since. Two days ago, we got a notice in the mail: I had mailed the electric bill payment to the natural gas company, and they were sending it back to me, telling me they couldn't accept a check that wasn't addressed to them. What?! Turns out that I mailed their check to the electric company (who either hasn't caught the mistake yet, or hasn't contacted me about it yet). I never do that!...except when I'm in a sleep-deprived, gestational-induced stupor. And I wasn't even the one paying the bills or balancing the checkbook this month. It was Mark (because of said stupor). All I did was write out the checks and put them in their envelopes. How hard is that supposed to be? Too hard for me, apparently. Four days until my due date. No idea when I'm actually going to have this child.