Ice Cream for Dinner

Dear Leigh,

I kept putting off writing to you until I "have more energy," but I realized that could leave you waiting for quite a while, so I figured I'd write a quick post tonight.

I have to admit, I was a little disappointed in our beach week--not in the company (except for missing Derek), or in the location, but in myself.  It seemed as though I napped my way through, and had little to nothing to say.  Life is very predictable, and I'm enjoying it, but it doesn't leave me with stories.  I guess I did go to England for a week, but somehow it didn't cross my mind to bring that up (til now).

Of course, I'm napping my way through evenings and weekends back in West Virginia, too, and frustrating Jeremiah because I can't bring myself to eat broccoli but I have no problem eating ice cream or baby back ribs. It tears at his health-food-loving soul.  Hopefully broccoli will taste good again in a few weeks.

It's difficult to believe I'm pregnant, after the year I had.  I'm glad I left my old gynecologist, because it seems that everything they told me was wrong.  Of course, we thought they might be right, and thus thought it would take a smidgen longer to get me knocked up... but a few months won't really make a difference.  Jeremiah will have a more interesting final semester than he bargained for--that's all.  And I got my big trip to England with my girlfriends in, before I couldn't justify spending that kind of money on something frivolous.  I do wish they were going to be around for my pregnancy, though.  All of my closest friends live at least 5 hours away, and the one good friend I've made here is freaked out by pregnant people and hates babies, and so refers to this whole thing as the "countdown to the end of our friendship."  She's only 20 percent joking.

Anyway, I did finish that book--"Never Let Me Go."  I had hoped for some sort of change in the circumstances of the main character, but she's awfully complacent about being bred to provide organs for uncloned people.  Apart from her and Tom's attempt to have a few years together because they're in love, that is, but even that smacked of complacency.  A few years?  Why not a lifetime?

I'm about to start reading "Out Stealing Horses."I admit, I chose it because I liked the title.

I hope you're doing well.

Love,
Kate