I didn't sleep again last night. That and my cold just will not go away. So I'm pretty much toast today.

Tonight we have our last meeting with the doula. We're going to go through her bag of labor aids and see what she has. She will even "train" Leo in their use. I still picture myself ending up rubbing Leo's back during labor, so it will be interesting. I swear he's already had more pregnancy backrubs than I have. Massage whore.

I finally saw 8 Mile last weekend. I was disappointed that everything looked so authentic, except for St. Andrews. Why couldn't they just have filmed St. Andrews? It was close enough, I guess. I also enjoyed how Eminem won the whole "rap off" thing by publicly announcing that his opponent went to Cranbrook. Dearborn High might not carry a lot of street cred but at least its not...gasp...Cranbrook.

I had lunch with Leo's sister yesterday. As we were paying, the waitress said something about how we should come back for brunch on Sunday. But she said it in such a way that made me think that she thought we were a couple. I was telling this to Leo last night, bemoaning the fact that every time I'm out with a friend, people think we're on a lesbian date. Leo pointed out that it must be my (little boy) haircut. Damn. I hate it when he's right.

I tried doing my hair differently this morning. Now, instead of the little boy from Who's the Boss, I look like the elf that wants to be a dentist from the Rudolph special (or maybe the lead singer of ABC). I'm not quite sure which is better.

Even my best pair of preggo pants can no longer contain my stomach. So glad I only have to get dressed two more times. After Friday, I am wearing nothing but PJs for the next month. You've been warned.