So a few months back, I had a bit of a love affair with the Hunger Games trilogy. I read through the first book in a week and polished off the next two of the series a couple days after that. I’m an old, married lesbian whose bedtime is typically 9:30 or 10:00. But the adventures of Katniss and her heroics in the dystopian society of Panem would often keep me awake well after midnight. I couldn’t put the books down. I couldn’t get enough. I couldn’t wait for the first book brought to life on the big screen. And, apparently, neither could this preggo.