Anyway, in the second part of the dream, I was somehow 9 months pregnant. I don't know how I got that way or why I couldn't recall the entire pregnancy, but here I was, ready to pop. My belly was very round. I was standing in the hospital, and I overheard the nurse telling the doctor about my upcoming delivery, and something about the tone bothered me. I don't remember what it was, though. I think I wanted to ask about privacy and keeping the door closed, because I didn't want anyone walking by and seeing that I was having a baby. I stood alone in a big, dark hospital room, and I knew that I was in labor. It was time to take off my pants and sit in the chair (it looked sort of like a dentist's chair), but I really didn't want to. But I knew I had no other choice, because the baby had to come out. I knew there would be doctors and nurses staring at me, and there would be pain and medical things, and then I'd have to deal with a baby when I don't even like babies until they're potty trained and reasonably fluent in English (or another native language). I felt frustrated and worried, and I really didn't want to go through with it. I woke up in the middle of the night, very relieved that I wasn't actually pregnant. Then one of my "real" babies crawled onto me and snuggled up against my face (thanks for suffocating me, Bouncer), so I felt better and went back to sleep.
Your mom. But the question is, could your mom give up me?
Oh snap, or something.
...Or maybe alcohol. That's an indulgence, I guess. I don't think I've had any since December, although I rarely drink to begin with.