Being on some sort of modified bed rest basically sucks. I'm already sick of being in the house constantly, but at least I had cleaning to do, laundry to do, and just randomness that needed to be taken care of around the house.
Now? I can't do any of that, and I absolutely hate watching television. May sound strange, but you should try being unemployed for 5 months and see if you ever want to watch television after just a few weeks of it.
So that means I resort to getting my piggies done. It got me out of the house for about an hour, and it was very enjoyable. Massage chairs are great, and having your fat, swollen, pregnant feet and ankles rubbed is even more enjoyable. I almost felt bad for the lady who had to give me the pedicure, since my pregnant feet are revolting. What the hell, it's her job, she gets paid.
I was clueless as to what I was missing out on this entire pregnancy. Now I know. Pedicures. Cute, painted, girly toes are all it takes to make you feel like a normal person again. Who would've thunk it?
So I leave you with a picture of my wonderfully painted and manicured tootsies, and to recommend any pregnant chick to indulge herself frequently in the simple bliss of a pedicure on a rainy day.