Way back when my older sister moved out of the fambly home (wow I feel old), I started a thing about calling her flat her house. It wasn’t exactly intentional, but everyone else picked it up, and since then, no one in my family really refers to our flat as anything but our house, either.
So when I went to write this, my first thought was, “My house is really creaking in the wind.” My second thought was for how much I need a drink of water. My third was that I’m incredibly uncomfortable.
But that’s just art of being 7 weeks pregnant. Everything after the wind, I mean.
The wind has been pretty crazy lately. It puts me in mind of film crew shaking a car, but my walls should probably be stronger than that. Unlike some people, I like when the weather goes kind of bonkers (so long as I’m not driving) and all the moaning and stuff is interesting rather than eerie.
Oddly enough, yesterday I spent hours talking about cool stuff, but now I feel fuzzy and blah again. I just need some time.