So, this is really stupid.  Like, really, really stupid.  There’s just no reason for it.  But I’ve been putting it off all week because I don’t want to do it, and now that I’m going to do it, I’m literally freaking out about it!

I have to have my glucose screening this afternoon.

It’s not the giving blood part that sucks, although it’s something like 8 vials of blood that they’re taking from my oh-so-feeble arm.  It’s really the thought that, well, it’s a test.  And I could fail!

Thank God I was busy all day today, putting out fires and whatnot, so I didn’t have to think about it.  But now, I am staring at the full-size, real Coke I have to chug within 15 minutes, and dreading buying the full-size, real candy bar that I also must gnosh in that same time frame.  I am thinking about these things and freaking out.  Why, you ask?

Because I don’t drink real Coke.  And I (for the most part) don’t eat candy.  I’ve done WONDERFULLY about sugar intake through most of my pregnancy.  So these rules really feel like sniffing a line of coke (ha!) before taking a drug test. 

I know that a barrage of “You’re being so stupid” comments are forthcoming, because you’re right: I TOTALLY AM.  At the same time, however, I am still nervous.  And literally shaking.

Imagine me on coke.

An incident today at work reminded me of something good ole Barry Petty used to say to us:

“If you have to tell someone how good (or talented or smart or or honored or versed or wonderful) you are, you most likely aren’t.”

Have I mentioned how much I love this man?  Even Bryan agreed last night, and we made a pact that if Anthony Bourdain ever asked one of us to run away with him, we have to go.  No reservations.