Beware the clutz

As I enter the third trimester, all my natural grace, dexterity, and fine-tuned motor skills have deserted me. I have dropped objects, knocked things over, and fumbled, more in the past week than I have in the past year. I am not by nature a clumsy person, but this is yet another adventure in pregnancy. Apparently this problem is attributable to a combination of the hormone relaxin which loosens joints, edema in my hands, disruption of the sense of balance by an ever shifting centre of gravity, loss of the ability to concentrate and focus (oh yes), and the fact that I still had some dignity left.
O.k., that last one is just my own commentary.
I still do not have the results back on the second glucose tolerance test. It's driving me crazy. Last time, I had the test on a Friday morning and had results by end of day the following Tuesday. This time, I had the test on a Thursday morning, so I figured today - being Monday - I could expect some answers. By mid-afternoon, I called my clinic. I finally managed to get through, but they said they hadn't received my results yet. I guess I will hear from them tomorrow. It's the same lab as last time, after all. Plus, they are located in the same building as my doctor's office. I just want to know! I'm eating my bloody dutch chocolate frozen yogurt anyway. If they tell me to stop, then I will.
I continue to have nasty Braxton-Hicks contractions (painless, my ass). Also, it hurts to sneeze, and it hurts to laugh. It hurts to walk, it hurts to sit, and finding a comfortable sleeping position is virtually impossible. Lucy has lodged her legs in my rib cage and no amount of massaging or dulcet tones of persuasion seem able to convince her to give me a break. I get sciata, and pelvic symphasis pains, and tailbone pain and lower back pain. My legs are swollen and I take 5 Tums a day these days.
I know it's a litany of complaints. I'm not looking for sympathy - I know exactly how this all came about, and who is responsible (me!). I just need to vent sometimes. Let me assert that I *do* appreciate how fortunate I am to be pregnant with what will likely be a lovely little girl. However, it is hard to be physically uncomfortable for months on end without getting grouchy now and then. To say nothing of the fact that my previous experience of pregnancy means I know precisely how much more of this I have to endure. I've been pregnant since freaking July, but I'm only 2/3 of the way there (if this baby chooses to go to full term, unlike the last one). I'm tired from lugging this weight around, and I'm frustrated that my pregnancy is now an impediment to activities that might otherwise take my mind of my discomfort.
Anyhow, the end is in sight - no matter how I feel.