It has struck much sooner, and much more severely, than ever before.
Due to my lack of brain power, my housekeeping has suffered.
Point in case: last night, as we walked into our bedroom, Chicklet's Daddy stared in disbelief at the state of the room. (Yeah, it was bad.)
I just shrugged my shoulders, and I kid you not, the following sentence came out of my mouth:
"This window has caused my pregnancy to fly right out the brain."
So, I'm pregnant. Apparently that means I can't make the bed, or form coherent sentences.