June starts month SEVEN

It's June! How do I know this? Because this morning when I stepped out of the bedroom and into the living room I nearly STEPPED on a dead June bug all curled up on the hardwood floor. What the? Yep. Strange. It's like an omen.

Also this morning my husband was cranky **instantly** because today is Day one of "Operation Quit Smoking Cold Turkey" and it is apparently going to be his mission to be depressing and act as though his life is over which should in no way effect the way his wife, beginning her 7th month of pregnancy, feels loved and supported and all that good crap. Actually, I am super excited that he is quitting. I don't want the baby's daddy to smell like an ashtray. Really. But it will be exceptionally hard to deal with his attitude towards me and everything in general.

On a great note, the crib and mattress arrived yesterday and Evan brought the mattress in so I could see the little Sealy posturpedic thing. It's so cute. I can't wait to assemble the crib and Evan promised that we would do that together this weekend or perhaps next week but of course now I am worried that without smoke breaks to vent his assembly frustration we may end up with a crib that is smashed to bits with a hammer.

Tonight I close my bead party. That's good. Then I plan on going to eat supper at the club where husband will be cooking. I am nervous about that because I am afraid he might be so mean that I would be better off at home alone, and also nervous about it because there are tornado watches and severe storm watches out for us this afternoon/evening and There have already been tornadoes spotted in Muscatine, Iowa and the general area... and I might also be safer at home.

I have an even bigger tornado paranoia now that I am supposed to be protecting a baby inside me and I would be so pissed if I got crushed by a tornado to begin with, but now I have to worry about me, Both dogs, AND an unborn child? Good lordy. And you know I always worry about a tornado coming when I am at work, because I am not sure if I am safer at the top of a 4 story building, trying to ride down the rubble or perhaps being blown away when the top comes off the building, or if I am safer on the bottom floor where all that shit can land on me and crush me. Actually I feel like I might be safer to run outside and lie flat on the ground somewhere, all stealth and smooth-like. (I can totally be stealth and smooth-like.) I would probably be better off just being at HOME where I can go to the basement with the dogs and we can huddle together and hide under the table in the basement sewing room.

Oh, and today, I just wanted to point out that I NEED this. I do. It's a necessity.