Changes.

I'm about to take pictures of our apartment to post on Craigslist. The hope is that we can have it leased out by next week, our new place picked by then, and everything moved by next weekend. Ambitious, and a little ridiculous, but that's how Jason and I are. We decide to do something and then do it way too fast and with hardly enough planning and we get incredibly stressed and on edge and then, suddenly, everything's done and all's right with the world.

I hate moving. With every fiber of my being. Except this time I have a good, solid excuse to not do all that much. You know, the whole pregnancy thing. So I'm in charge of taking pictures of our apartment now and packing up all the non-heavy stuff and unpacking that same stuff and organizing everything.

Now we just have to find a place.

And this is my last week of working at Channel 4, at least for now. I become an "on-call" producer starting Monday the 2nd, meaning I'll be taken off the schedule until I'm ready to come back. They wouldn't let me quit. This way I don't have to be "rehired" when (if) I decide to come back (I probably won't).

And, by the way, I don't get my insurance through my employer, just incase anyone thought I was manipulating them into keeping my coverage while I sat on my lazy pregnant behind.

This means that, starting Sunday morning when I get off work after working overnight, I will no longer be a pregnant vampire. I can sleep at night--at the same time as my fiance--and wake up when the sun is shining. What a novel thought.