Working From Home.
Working from my home office definitely is making for a more comfortable last trimester. I'm able to put my feet up constantly (to ward off Le Puff), I can test my blood sugar and eat randomly at whatever schedule BSparl dictates that day, and I can (thank GOD) wear sweatpants more often than maternity clothes, saving me a ton of money on trying to find outfits that are appropriate for my basketball belly.
Only problem is ... well, my coworkers.
They're freaking animals.
Prussia takes meetings constantly, and is always on conference calls. (Oh, it must be Wednesday. She's wearing her Wednesday tie.)
But The Boss? Is losing her mind. Obviously. She's been ranting about doing random cat-nip testing because people just seem stoned all day at work (even though, buzz around the food dish is that this little sausage boss is the one dipping into the stash. I mean, look at her eyes. She looks ready to launch.), and she has had trouble controlling her temper in meetings lately. Those claws? Mean business.
(I apologize for the above post. This is what happens when Chris and I end up at Target, find ourselves staring aimlessly down the aisle with 50,000 choices in baby diapers, and end up buying what is tagged on our receipt as "cat apparel.")