I think I'm going to hurl.

I haven't overeaten in a long, long time, probably six or seven months. And you wouldn't imagine that, with a dinner of fruit and cheese, I would. But I crammed myself full of brie, manchego, strawberries and cantaloupe, then indulged in some chocolate cake afterward and now I feel like I'm going to explode. I'm glad I wore my maternity jeans today. Oh, well. It was really, really worth it.

Sadly, that was the highlight of my evening. Ragsy pitched a fit today. Well, two fits, which set Evelyn off - once in the car and again when I had to hand her over to her dad so I could deal with said fit. Blargh. What a day.

I'm still a little unsettled from a dream I had last night, too. I think I must have been partially awake, too, which made it all the more weird. In the dream, I was walking Evelyn to sleep after a feeding. Not too weird. The weird part was that I knew that I was dead and that my reality overlay someone else's who was living in my former house. I was the ghost they heard pacing up and down the halls, into their bedroom and through the family room. My footsteps and Evelyn's cries were keeping them awake and afraid. I couldn't see them, but a couple were laying in a bed right where ours used to be, huddling in fear. From me. It was very much like the end of The Others.