I have resorted to watching wrestling again. Every Monday night, I sit down on the couch with my laptop and a glass of ice water and a snack. I log into Twitter, and I rant with my friend while we both watch the show. It's not the same as I recall it from ten years back, but it kills 2 hours of the night before I hit the hay.
I could read a book, or one of the many Popular Photography or Parenting magazines stacked upon my coffee table. I could finish packing the hospital bag for the delivery to come. I could sew. I could photograph my feet, which I don't see much of anymore.
I want to vacuum. I want to sweep and mop. I want to dust. I want to finish sanding my old rocking chair from my childhood and repaint it for my baby. I want to go shopping.
I guess this part of a pregnancy prepares you for the future, when you have to give up what you want sometimes in order to take care of what is needed.
I think I can get used to that.