Nesting.

Nesting plus moving into a new apartment plus an already existing obsession with decorating equals one very tired pregnant me.

I've felt like a mad woman this past week. I wake up at 7 a.m., sometimes earlier, and the to-do list starts forming in my mind before my feet even hit the floor. I want things done, and I want them done now.

I try to reason with myself. It's probably not the best idea for someone in her third trimester to attempt to mount that mirror or to rearrange that furniture or to put together that dear god way-too-complicated-to-put-together changing table. But I always give in. If it's too heavy (and, yes, I'm being careful), I find some way to manipulate it into manageability. The mirror goes first onto the chair, with the help of my knee. Then, with a nudge, I lever it onto the table. Then I position it against the wall. And then all it takes is two seconds of lifting and I have it positioned perfectly onto the nails. It would make a lot more sense to, say, wait a few hours for Jason to come home, since he can lift the mirror to the wall in one simple step. But no. I simply cannot wait those few hours because then my baby will be living in a mirror-less, bland, undecorated home and then what sort of mother would I be???

It's starting to feel like some sort of psychosis. While writing this post, I've also ordered Jason a wall-mount for his guitar and found the washer and dryer we're going to buy on Craigslist (I literally can't even shut off the nesting long enough to write for 10 minutes).

I was on my way to get the vacuum when I saw my poor, lonely computer sitting at the desk we put together last night and felt compelled to take the smallest of breaks to clear my mind. And now all I can think about is that I need to vacuum.

For anyone who can remember their inner monologue during pregnancy, I have to ask: am I going crazy or is this, in fact, normal? Or at least normal-ish?