It’s time for a hump day rant.
You know what I find irritating beyond perhaps anything else? When I go to sleep and I dream about things that occur in my normal day. For instance, last night, I had a dream that I was in a Shop Rite trying to grocery shop (I am a total Wegman’s gal) and I just kept meandering around the store, unable to find anything on my grocery list. This dream is the only dream I remember and was even stressing me out so much so that I woke up in the middle of the night, completely annoyed that my subconcious and its freewill chose to dream about the most tedious job I have as a mother when it could be creating something fabulous and unrealistic, then fell back asleep and had the same damn dream all over again. Needless to say, today I have to go grocery shopping, so in a way, today is my own version of Groundhog Day. Except it will involve Wegman’s, where I can probably navigate a shopping cart with my eyes closed as long as every self involved yuppie in designer clothing and full faced makeup isn’t there, wandering from their shopping carts because their importance trumps the common courtesy of leaving aisles at least passable. OR the other extreme is the women that are decked out, and I mean decked out in their workout attire with perfect hair and face paint. Let’s all be honest. If you look that pretty, you obviously didn’t break a sweat this morning before coming to Wegman’s so you more than likely just wanted to wear your workout gear that you bought in the Junior’s Department as you try to fight with every fiber in your body to hold on to your youth. (Maybe that was mean, but I’m going to pull my “crazy pregnancy hormone” card today and defend myself in saying I have no control over what I type.)
Maybe that’s harsh because I am also at a crossroads in my struggle of which department to shop in. I will be thirty this year. So do I have to stop shopping in the Junior’s Department as well? Sometimes I feel like I do because many of the trends really make no sense. The shorts put me into a momentary spiral of depression as I waddled through Target the other day, at first because it made me realize I may have outgrown the Junior’s Department. Then I thought that mace should come standard with those bad boys because men might just assume you are a hooker if you wear them. Maybe I’m biased to the issue regarding short length because God didn’t bless me in the “legs” department. My legs are short and muscular and I always have to search for the perfect length because if they’re too long I look like an Oompa Loompa, but if they’re too short I look in the mirror and hear the dumb voice of a sixth grade boy calling me “thunder thighs” and I will probably end up putting pants on. That being said, in my adulthood, I have only reached a booming 5’2″. That puts me at the perfect size to shop in the Junior’s department the rest of my life, which could be a curse, or I have to shop in the Women’s Petite section which just doesn’t work for me. For another 3 weeks and 5 days and however long it takes to get my body back, I am committed to the glorious realm of the maternity or sleepwear section, so I guess I don’t really have to worry about such things at the moment.
Which brings us to the comical point in my pregnancy. I no longer can type with my computer on my lap unless I enjoy it sliding off at a 45 degree angle because of how far my stomach is sticking out. Although I am in love with my compression socks, putting them on and getting them off is downright torture. I can’t breath at all and it reminds of the Louis CK standup when he’s talking about the worse part of everyday involving the part where he has to put on his socks because he realizes how fat he is. This pregnancy has turned into the most uncomfortable pregnancy yet and I swear this baby is going to be enormous, but from everyone around me I either hear one of two things: I am huge or really small. I’m thinking huge, but don’t all of us preggos think that? I think the part of pregnancy I will miss a lot is how nice everyone is to me. It’s as if my belly completely cancels out my natural “bitch face,” and even strangers start conversations with me. Moms at school are sweet too, which is funny because more often then not, I am completely ignored by moms.
And finally, as I look out the window I see snow again! This is the worse winter I can remember. However, the days are getting longer and reminds us that spring is on its way, but clearly taking her good old time…similar to the yuppie women at Wegman’s that I am certain to see this morning, that only rush when they are stealing your parking space or cutting you off in line. I get it though…when you get that jazzed up to go to the food store, you have to create some drama out of picking the perfect apple or pepper.
Happy Hump Day and let’s think about retiring that awful phrase.