Feed me, I'm your parasite!

Ever since the nausea abated, I find myself waking up with low-level headaches that don't go away until I find the right food to eat. And I never have any idea what that is, because I have this voracious appetite but nothing I eat tastes _good_ other than frozen fruit bars and ice cubes. (I know, that probably means I'm dehydrated, but it's been consistent even when I drink a gallon of water over the course of a workday, which I usually do.) And ice from my freezer isn't good enough, although if ever I was contemplating upgrading my fridge to one with an icemaker, it's now, even though I don't have the money for it or the water line I'd need to run to make it work. Really, I want to gut the kitchen and build my dream one, knock down the deck in the back and build a patio surrounded by garden, and renovate the upstairs bathroom to have a separate bath and shower and to look more like my aunt's upstairs bathroom.

A little overmotivated, probably, but in the meantime I've been a cleaning fiend when I've had the energy to be such.

This headache thing is just wrong, though. And I can never figure out what it is that Bunky and my body are conspiring to get me to eat. For a while it was ketchup-friendly foods, but it's not that now. (And I think it's funny how many people think ketchup is the thing I craved during my first pregnancy in my "how well do you know Helen" quiz on Facebook.)

In the meantime, my strange pregnant girl behavior has been to go to 7-11 and get a Big Gulp filled to the top with ice and a little bit (about the equivalent of a single can) of Coke in it--or go somewhere else where there's a self-serve drink station and do the same. I drink the Coke and then eat all the ice, which is something I have _never_ done in my life. My mom is an ice chomper and I can't stand the sound, generally, but right now it's the best thing ever.