WARNING!

CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE. CAP MAY BLOW OFF CAUSING EYE OR OTHER SERIOUS INJURY. POINT AWAY FROM FACE AND PEOPLE, ESPECIALLY WHILE OPENING.

This is written boldly on the bottle of my Schweppes Ginger Ale. I’m grateful for the words of caution. Who knows what accident could have befallen me in my delicate state?

Today with all my heart I almost didn’t go to work. I’ve been feeling kind of cruddy in a pregnant way lately. Saturday night I missed Ali’s birthday Grunge Prom 1993 because my body wouldn’t cooperate after I made it go to Virginia and back to get our new car. Tragic.

The thing about work in general, is you want people to need you and your contributions. It’s also nice to be appreciated for what you do. My job here is finally reaching that level. We had a database lock (my first!) last week, so now we have some tight deadlines for the client and we’re all working as a team and calling and emailing and sametime-ing (IM here) and rerunning things and checking code and databases and pretty much exactly what I wanted which is why I took this job. But then I feel all horrible and I want to go home, and I feel like I would be letting down the team if I did! Whew – no wonder people deep down don’t want to hire pregnant girls. We’re unreliable and crabby and we go to the bathroom A LOT.

Back to the ginger ale: I was hoping by sipping it through the afternoon that icky pukey feeling would depart. Oh, well.