Forget what they say about the three trimesters of pregnancy, there are only two. You feel crappy, then great, then crappy again. After gassing up the entire house last night, I'm realizing that all the wondrous side effects of the 1st trimester are back to haunt me. Some people who have a no shoes in the house policy hand out footies or slippers to their house guests, I think I should hand out SARS masks. I am ashamed at how my body digests a handful of cherries into a cherry bomb of its own.

The heartburn is back with a veangence too. I've been taking Zantac before bed for the last couple weeks, which has been a life saver, except last night I ran out, and considered going to 7-11 at 11(pm). Instead I drank a minty Mylanta shake. My 80's tune commemorating the heartburn that kept me up last night is Madonnas "Burning Up for Your Love."

"I'm on FIRE...c'mon let go!"