Barking dogs

I have had a VERY busy week. Monday was laundry, grocery shopping, dry cleaning, and gym followed by my evening at the Pregnancy Center. Between Tuesday and Friday I worked 50 hours on my feet at the hospital at a very busy NICU. Mid-week due to scrubs not fitting quite like they used to, I had to do laundry again after a 13 hour shift just to have something clean to wear that didn't suffocate me. My weekend ahead is just as busy, some fun stuff, some just necessary stuff, but busy regardless. I'm exhausted to say the least. This type of week was hard not pregnant, and this is the first week I have really felt the added strain of pregnancy on such long hours on my feet.

As the work clock wound down and I could see the light at the end up the tunnel I made a comment to a co-worker toward the end of our long day, "My dogs are barking!" as I plopped my throbbing feet up on a chair. She looked at me with such inquisition as she said...."What does that even mean?" I was shocked she hadn't heard that before, but then it dawned on me that I might have let all these years of living in the south soak in a little deep. In a Jeff Foxworthy sort of way I informed her that it means your feet hurt, so for those of you who didn't know that, now you do. :)