The neighbors downstairs are cooking something amazing and I'm trying not to focus on that as I untangle codes of CSS and contemplate going to the bathroom for the 1,000,000th time. I MEAN PLEASE. It's ridiculous how often a pregnant lady has to use the restroom. I give up!
On the other hand, maybe my pregnant belly would convince the neighbors downstairs that I'm worthy of feeding. It smells like BBQ something. Yum. Please. Yum.
