I decided to tell one of my roommates (Courtney); you know, in case I fell over or something, or started getting really hormonal. Most importantly, I needed a support system that wasn't a roadtrip away. It bonded us, I think. Just last night, she wouldn't let me play Quidditch (I know, I know, it's awesome. They have pretty much any sport under the sun here at UF. Actually, it was funny to watch because some rugby players come to the practice [since they're forming a tournament Quidditch team] and they were SUPER intense. It was like, chill out! Remember that this game is supposed to be played in a fictional world on flying broomsticks with balls that have a bad attitude flying around trying to hurt you, and an illusive little gold ball with wings that somehow seems sneaky and conniving. Not quite something to get your panties all ruffled over. But back to the actual story.) Like I said, she wouldn't let me play Quidditch, so when we walked up to the "field" and the "coach" asked what posititions we were looking at playing, she immediately yelled, "She can't play! She's pregnant." I thanked her for the announcement, and then sat by to watch the practice. And immediately realized why a pregnant woman should NOT play Quidditch at UF. Talk about a contact sport. Needless to say, Courtney is my reminder that I'm pregnant and there are many things that I probably shouldn't do.
Meanwhile, while settling myself into the swing of living on campus, I began to think more and more about the baby. It had already been addressed that I had everyone's support (everyone that knew, that is). I had even introduced myself via email to an adoptive family. Then, finally, before I knew it, the first week was over. After my last class on Friday, I packed my car and headed home. It was a LONG time before I actually arrived.
My trip was going just fine, completely uneventful, until I noticed the "Service Engine" light flashing. Then, the car started to thud, almost like the feeling of running out of gas. I looked behind me and was shocked to see smoke billowing behind. I immediately pulled over. Turns out, I would not be driving myself the rest of the way. I had to spend roughly the next two hours riding in a tow truck. Thankfully, the driver was very nice and we were able to have good conversation a great deal of the way home. Finally, I made it to the agreed meeting spot, where I was greeted by my mom and my little puppy, Mr. Bugfoo, Kungfoo Master and Gentlemen (one of his nicknames of which I am most fond). I was almost home, at last.