I spent the better part of today dreaming of chicken enchiladas. I even sent my dear husband out to the store to get a few ingredients to make them for dinner. And so I set to work-- baking chicken, making sauce, and making a bean-and-rice filling for a vegan version for Matt. Several hours later, the thing I have fantasized about all day is sitting atop the stove, hot and bubbly out of the oven. And here I sit, too nauseous to eat them. Sigh. First trimester, I thought we were through.