Fast forward to this morning and my 45 minute descent from my mattress to the floor and I felt like I was making progress. You see, I was going to go downstairs, get some much needed orange juice and then get ready for my day. The plan for the morning included going to visit my friend Danie and possibly go for a walk which my dog desperately needs.
And then I hear a truck.
At first, I think it must be the mysterious truck that has arrived twice at my neighbor's house in the past couple of weeks, removing things from their house... that's a whole other post so I won't get into it. But then it stops. By my driveway. And I panic.
Could this be the furniture delivery people that are supposed to come today between 3-5pm? Could they possibly be totally early, surprising me in my huge pregnant belly t-shirt, scary hair and smudged eye make-up from the night before? Somebody gets out of the drivers side, with a clipboard and starts to walk up my driveway.
I burst into action... this isn't so impressive if you can imagine 32.5 weeks of baby belly looming. Running upstairs, grabbing jeans, a huge sweatshirt and tying my hair up, I come running down just as Deeter is faithfully announcing a visitor at our doorstep.
They delivered another dresser, removed the original one (dented) and now they are gone.
Furniture is delivered, I am writing this blog and Deeter is in his kennel because he couldn't control his behavior around the delivery guys. I still have yet to check the dresser for any dings or dents but I just don't have time nor do I feel like it. I just want to finish my orange juice in peace and get on with my day.