I didn't know any of this was going on until Eric came into the office to check a few web pages. I mean, I guess I probably should have been out there with them, but they were all just sitting around reading the newspaper, so I asked Eric if it would be all right if I just checked my email. Then, I guess, all hell broke loose. They began cleaning, Eric got mad at me for not being out there helping, and I could feel my shoulders trying to creep up the back of my neck. I didn't want them cleaning, and now I did not want to go out there and have to see them doing it. There's no way to stop them once they've started; believe me, it's been attempted. The most that can be done is to join them in their crusade against clutter, and, frankly, I didn't want to clean. Not now. Not with people here.

After I'd had enough of Eric's hissed complaints at me, though, I finally was forced out of the office. I snatched the laundry basket away from my husband and stalked into the bedroom to sort the clothes. I was spitting furious; I realize that they were just trying to be helpful, but really! Do you go into somebody else's house and begin vacuuming their carpet without even asking? Is that rude, or is it just me?

Probably it's just me. Eric doesn't seem to have a problem with it.

I've been tired all day. In church, I was a bit drowsy; continued shopping through the day drew more deeply from my energy reserves. Getting to sleep in a bit tomorrow is the only saving grace of this whole weekend.

On the other hand, I could be willing to claim this exhaustion as a symptom of pregnancy. I wouldn't ordinarily do that; it's too easy, too common, and too simple to blame on the in-law fiasco. There are a couple of points in my favor, though. Several people have written to me to say that they, too, had vivid dreams about smells when they were pregnant. Second, while we were in the Andersons store today, I had waves of nausea so strong that I was worried that I'd have to dash for the door. Third, and most prevalent in my mind: I was checking cervical fluids this afternoon, and found that I was spotting a bit. I never have midcycle spotting. It's gone now, and I keep thinking, this could be implantation; this could be implantation. It is the right time for it to be happening!

So, there it all is. I won't bring it up anymore, but I wanted it there for posterity. I hate obsessing, and I was doing so well at avoiding it this cycle until today. Now I have to wait at least five more days before I'll know anything more...

Not that I'll be bored. I picked up this weekend, among other things, a semi-easy pattern for a stuffed teddy bear and the parts for said bear. I'm on my way! It shouldn't be too difficult to get into the swing of things once I get started, should it? I do have the feeling that my busiest tool will be the seam ripper, but that doesn't bother me much. After all, everybody's a beginner sometimes, right?

Oh, and I bought a sewing basket in which to store my steadily growing collection of sewing notions; it was beginning to outgrow the fruit bowl in the center of the dining room table.

But he wants me now, so I'll have to give it the best I've got. My head is starting to hurt. This is not his fault, but all mine, and I shouldn't take it out on him. I don't want to take it out on him. I want to be alone and work through it all by myself. Why won't he let me do that?

He thinks I need a hug. All I need is a nap.