If I'm not entirely mistaken (and it's happened in the past), two veins on each of my breasts have become more prominent overnight. They took me by surprise when I looked in the mirror, so I had to call Eric to come and look. He acknowledged that they looked darker, but he also felt that the breasts themselves looked and felt larger. He does not deny the fact that he could be as prone to invent symptoms as I am.

I detest waiting. My temps are up, though, so I'm glad I'm using the Yam Root. Small jump today; if they stay up there, I'll lose all sense of reason by the time AF is due.

Eric and I slept through the clock roll-over. Please don't shoot me. I tried to stay up; honest, I did, but the soft sounds of Eric sleeping in the next room did me in in the end, and I was in bed by 11:30. He had gone to bed at 8:30, due to the fact that he had to be at work at four this morning to test the systems; I was supposed to get him up at 11:45 for the New Year, but when I woke him up, he decided that he didn't need to be awake, after all.

Sleeping with my husband wasn't such a bad way to spend the New Year's celebration, after all.

The systems at his work turned out fine, so Eric came home and tried to get me out of bed at seven. Hmph. I don't get up that early for work, let alone on a Saturday, let alone on the first day of the year 2000. Defeated, he climbed back into bed (putting his frozen feet all over me in the process) and we slept until 10:30. Got the year off to a productive start, yes, we did!

Got up, did some web surfing. Finally, Eric got hungry, so we showered and went to lunch. We considered using the new date as an excuse to be Problem Customers ("Hey, this is the year 2000! I expect better service than this!"), but our waitress was sick, so we took pity on her. Over the meal, we discussed our resolutions. As it turned out, we both wanted to try to both keep a neater house and eat at home more often. Sheepishly, then, we headed for the grocery store to buy some food of a more edible quality than that currently residing in the fridge at home.

Incidentally, I count myself very lucky to have a husband who takes responsibility for evicting old tenants from the refrigerator when their time has passed. I'm of the sort who would much rather wait until the food had evolved enough to locomote itself to a more hospitable habitat. Eric is made of stronger stuff.

Of course, neither of us really wanted to go home at this point, with the spectre of massive cleaning hanging over our heads, so we spent far more time at the supermarket than was necessary. Did you know that they make aerosol cream cheese now? I also went looking for the disgusting potato chips my little cousins were eating over Thanksgiving: ketchup-flavored. (Thankfully, it appears that our local grocer has declined to carry them.) Our extended vaunt ended up taking its toll on us in impulse buys. Eric bought peanuts and ice cream; I got Chex Mix makings and a Cosmo.

We've spent the remainder of the evening cleaning and doing laundry, though we quit long before we finished the job. More for tomorrow, I guess. But we did eat at home! Red Baron frozen pizza, with Chex Mix for dessert.

I'm feeling much better today than I did yesterday. I was in a foul mood there for a while, and the Millennium Countdown clock hanging over the Young Adult collection wasn't helping matters any. It's not that I'm terrifically bothered by the change of the year, but I just didn't feel prepared to enter the year 2000. I've got too much up in the air. Am I pregnant? Will Eric receive his job offer next week? Is my mother's thyroidectomy going to go okay? There's too much unresolved business to feel ready to enter a new stage of life.

Perhaps, by the real turn of the millennium, I'll feel ready to celebrate.