Return of the Rotter

It's been several months since I last posted, and I wish I could say that in that time I've made some wonderful contributions to humanity. Alas, my time has mainly been spent idly, although I did do a few personal things: I got the most adorable puppy ever (more on him to follow), I moved to a new home (which I am very maturely a co-owner of), I got my UK residency visa which allows me to happily stay in my adopted UK home for over two more years and I got knocked up. It's amazing how much can happen in the pursuit of literally nothing!

It seems like I have quite a bit to write about. I certainly have experienced every emotional response possible in the last few months, so hopefully I will be inspired and Rushdie-esque in my prose. More realistically, this is where I'm at right now: I just consumed about a third of a tin of condensed milk. I wish that I could say I consumed it because I baked some really divine dessert, but that just wouldn't be me (although becoming a pro-chef is def on my to-do list). No, I just sat there and spooned it out of the dirty tin - a past-time I used to embrace in my childhood when spoonfuls of either condensed milk or frosting were my breakfast of champions. I feel pretty grotesque now (note: in childhood, I used to feel amazing after this feast) and rather worried that my sugar intake is too high for an entire nation, let alone me and my bump. But I guess all can be forgiven in the world of pregnancy cravings (and considering clay is a potential alternative, I'm doing pretty well).