So if you read my last post you are pretty well versed in the consistency of my bladder, the daily eruptions occurring on my epidermis, and the overall lethargy that has been my life for the past few months. Perhaps the biggest lie of pregnancy though is those "little" mood swings you hear about, but are quickly assured are quite temporary and are typically curable with a nice foot rub or a bit of comfort food. If pregnancy were a card game then I would call bullshit! Pregnancy is a one way, nonrefundable ticket on the crazy train!Take for example my latest excruciating trip to the grocery store. While my mom was thoughtful enough to pick up a food dehydrator for me last weekend so I can stop wasting money on organic dried fruits, I am entirely too lazy to attempt to make my own Larabars. The food processor gives me a headache and I hate cleaning the sticky goo off the blades that dried fruit inevitably leaves stuck behind. My only alternative then was to do the prego shuffle through the store filled with scents that assaulted my super sonic sense of smell while stripping off layers of clothing because despite the 30 degree temperatures outside I was literally melting under the fluorescent lighting inside.
Twice I had to stop mid aisle and ponder some absurd purchase just to keep my mind off the food that kept insisting on heading north of my stomach. Swallowing my lunch back down, I cursed the redesign that had moved both entrances to the front of the store which seemed impossibly far away given my state. When I finally got a handle on things I made it to the macaroni and cheese aisle which inexplicably shares real estate with household items such as Raid and bar soap. This irritates me beyond measure even when not knocked up, so I try to get what I need and get out without causing a scene. When I finally passed the carcinogens only to see that my favorite Back to Nature Crazy Bugs Macaroni has not been restocked for the 3rd week in a row I came dangerously close to hyperventilating. What does a girl have to do to get some gd macaroni around here?!
At this point I am annoyed, sweating bullets, and desperately fighting a losing battle to keep my food from splattering on the waxed floor and causing a chain reaction among the other midday shoppers. My mission becomes to get my Larabars and get out. As I round the corner of the cereal aisle I see a young couple grinning ear to ear as they push their newborn around in what is likely his first trip to the store. The woman gives me a sympathetic look as I pigeon toe it over to the granola section being blocked from view by a young woman and her scaffolding of a car as she restocks the shelves.
Said granola girl sees me and when I say excuse me, she continues working and forces me to squeeze my gargantuan belly between her cart and the shelves. Once I have myself firmly wedged in place I am disappointed to see that like the macaroni, this area has not been restocked since my last visit. I turn toward her, which is no easy task, and politely inquire if she will also be restocking any more Larabars.
Granola girl realizes my precarious situation, as I cannot easily extract myself from my current position, and decides that because she hates her job and apparently all of humanity she will become sarcastic stocker of the shelves and put me in my place. She asks me if it looks like she is wearing a red shirt and khaki pants and suggests that perhaps I find someone who is if I want to know what will be restocked because she only works for a specific health bar company. The response that immediately came to mind, or maybe it skipped my mind and went straight to my lips was to ask her if I looked like the kind of pregnant woman who would hesitate to punch someone in the face, but by some miracle or divine intervention my lunch edged once more to the void where my tonsils once existed and I was forced to swallow it along with my biting reply.
While not usually one to write passive aggressive notes on the internet, I do hope that this girl realizes how lucky she was that nature interceded on her behalf because the train I'm on has left the station! Just ask J, he's known me for almost 11 years now and currently sleeps with one eye open. Perhaps this inaccurately named morning sickness is nature's way of keeping pregnant women everywhere out of the slammer when our normally logical brain decides to take a mini vacation! So until this train stops I will self medicate with a giant slushy while I shop on Amazon for my fav mac and cheese and a box of Larabars big enough to sustain me in the event of a zombie apocalypse.
