Flattie

After several weeks of living solo, and amazing myself by being quite happy, I took a look at my bank balance and decided that a flattie would, in fact, save me thousands of dollars before the prawn arrives in October. I interviewed five very nice but deeply dull girls and then Matt came along. He has Foxtel, a huge TV and a massive DVD/CD/book collection, perfect for the woman with no social life to speak of. He cooks, [he's promised to roast me a chicken], and writes and seems very happy about me being pregnant, but not in a creepy way. He writes very long, very funny emails and is extremely tall and thus able to change the last remaining non-energy saving light bulb that I always forgot to have the boy do, as I was too busy being distracted by his...well you get the idea. Luckily he has a girlfriend, [taking it slow, she has kids], so I don't have to worry about how very attractive he is; it'll just be so good to have a bloke around to kill the spiders and take out the bins.

I bought my first maternity clothes this weekend, a dress, a jumper, a skirt and a top, which apparently will be suitable for breast-feeding with. It was all shockingly expensive, but the sort of things that will look OK with a flat tummy too, [I do wonder if flat is something I'll see again this decade]. It's cooler now and that means it'll be easier to disguise the growing belly with big jumpers, but honestly, it's protruding so much that after lunch there's really no hiding it. People are asking me how things are going outright, rather than in stage whisper, so it'll be great to have the 12 week scan out of the way and be able to be openly pregnant rather than having a lot of nudges and winks. 13 days til the scan. Susan is coming with me and the midwives will probably come too. I'm not worried about it, I'm looking forward to being told everything is OK. So that probably means if there was a problem I'd be inconsolable, I can't even think about it.