Instead of making this a simple picture blog (14 weeks pictures out today!), I decided to write a little about something that I saw today that actually made me whip my head around and yell “Holy Shit!”
Gas at the station near my house costs $4.09 a gallon. Never thought I’d see that. It’ll be funny when I’m old and wrinkly to think back to this day in awe of how cheap and simple things were “way back when”, and then stop reminiscing to yell at the grandkids to stop horsing around on their rocket boots.
Here’s the new pics! I feel fat and bloated today, but luckily I was able to suck in the belly enough to feel like I can still get a decent photo.
I’m sure it’s because I’m being sensitive lately, but some comments by some people just make me want to pop them in the nose. For instance, I was talking to a woman that is in my A&P lab, and she asked me how many months pregnant am I. I’m not quite clear on months vs. weeks equivalents, so I said I think being that I’m 14 weeks now, I’m somewhere around my 4th months of pregnancy. And do you know what she said to me in reply? I have to keep in mind that she’s from Peru and maybe the culture there allows this kind of thing, but she told me that I’m TOO BIG for being only 4 months! She said that I should watch what I eat. UUGGGH! I can’t believe someone has the balls to say that to a pregnant woman! I mean, I’ve gained a total of like 5 pounds in the past 14 weeks. Maybe I should be smaller, but GODDAMN IT, I can’t shrink now, so please! Lay off the fat comments. Then last night I had the most awful dreams about having 6 chins and being teased for my weight and being too big to get through doors – it was NOT fun. I hate people.
Then today, my best friend JC decided he had a “problem”, and instead of coming over here like EVERYONE ELSE DOES, he actually wrote to me in an IM that he wanted me to stop by his desk when I got a chance, because typing out his question would be “too difficult”. Fuck him. I told him I have a headache so I’m not moving, he can just write me a note. Or fucking visit. GOD. Like he has the RIGHT to demand that I COME TO HIM! Grr.
So, I told Scott that I’m pregnant today, and due in November. He wasn’t as much as an ass as I thought he would be, although still not as fun to tell as I’m sure it would be to tell a woman – they always are more excited and bubbly about that kind of thing. He did say congrats, we talked about leave, blah blah blah, and as I was walking out the door he did mention something about starting up the “fat jokes” again… AAH! Oh well. Truthfully, I’ve proved to myself that after the birth of a child a woman’s body doesn’t have to become just a vessel to get us around – we can shape it back into a performance machine that we’re proud to be a part of. So what do I care if Scott starts up the fat jokes? The problem last time was that people latched on to Scott and did whatever he did, instead of thinking for themselves. This time I’ve been a bit more established for a while, and I don’t think the majority of staff around here would dare say a single “funny” thing to me about my expanding waistline, lest they want to be punched square in the nose.
I think I’ll have a piece of baklava to celebrate that remark.
What’s even funnier about it all is that Scott said there has been “talk” in the office about the possibility that I’m pregnant. I know I look a bit thicker, but my stomach stuck WAY out last time, and it’s not even really doing anything yet this time, although I guess in the beginning of the summer season it’s more normal to thin down than bulk up… and I’ve definitely been bulking up. So I could have gone a little longer without telling Scott, but apparently he would have already known.
There’s so much secretive talking around here it’s disgusting. And that bugs me.
Maybe those biyatches are reading my blog? Do you wenches have the balls to make a comment to me about you secretly reading everything I hate about you?
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Ok, so this’ll be a quick post. Maybe. JC just came over here to ask a question about something he had a “problem” with yesterday when he was doing the something with the something something. He thought that my logic sucked, and I couldn’t remember why I did what I did, but I knew that I had spent hours and hours on finishing that crap and I didn’t make a dumb mistake that JC would fucking catch. Anyway. I proceeded to explain the error of his ways to him, and he was standing at the door of my cube the whole time… looking the other way! I was actually pretty confused! Do I continue talking? Is this a signal from you that you don’t want to hear what I’m saying? Or are you just being a big fat douchebag? I think that’s probably the most likely explanation. Rachel says that he angrily bangs on his desk all day long, and it seems as though there’s a fury brewing in the cube next to her. He treats people very strangely – interrupting all the time, looking the other way during conversations, acting like he’s too busy to look you in the eye… it’s like he can sense that we KNOW he’s alien or something! So strange. Every day here makes me wonder why I stay for another.
Overreaction. That’s what it was. But I think I have plenty of good reasons to overreact today.
I woke up at 6am to Connor crying about wanting to watch Blue’s Clues and drink some milk. It was sunny outside already, so I guess I have to give him the benefit of the doubt and say he was confused and doesn’t realize how friggin early 6am is. I need to make better curtains for his room so that this doesn’t keep happening. He made me shower with the door open, demanded his milk immediately when I got out, freaked out a billion times when I helped him put his pants on because they were “uncomfortableing him”, and somehow we managed to make it out the door. I forgot the following: my lunch, my backpack, my waterbottle, and Connor’s trike. Apparently it’s the “Trike-A-Thon” at school today.
We got through it all. Connor smiled when I left preschool, so I don’t think he totally sensed my increasing frustration toward this poopy Tuesday. He ate breakfast well and was dressed comfortably, and I was taking him to a safe place to play and have fun with friends (and learn a little too!), so I felt OK as I walked back to the car.
Then I called Craig. He told me some story about how he’s getting out so late today because his patient had a bout of bradycardia at shift change, and they were going to have to pace her, and blah blah blah. I actually think that’s how his conversation ended. He’s tired though, since he did just work a 12 hour shift, so I also gave him the benefit of the doubt. I mentioned that it’s the Trike-A-Thon at school today, and we forgot Connor’s bike. Then he said “We’re such bad parents.” And I overreacted. I mean, c’mon! I am the one to drop him off at school 95% of the time, and then I also have to go to work right after (if Craig’s dropping Connor off, he then gets to go to Lowes or somewhere fun and do house stuff… not I!) So even if he’s joking by making a comment about parenting skills, it’s a shitty thing to do to a pregnant woman with about a zillion other things to worry about. I do not need to second guess whether or not I’m a good parent, right in the middle of going to school (and taking very difficult classes), working full time, and entering my second trimester of pregnancy. Shitty shitty shitty.
How about this? You’re a bad husband! Other women on our block all have stay at home lives, where they can teach their children and pay attention to their children without having the extra worry of paying the gas bill or buying groceries. I’ve got way too much responsibility to be also worrying about whether I’m going to scar my child for life by forgetting his Trike. At least I remembered his lunch. Here I am, pregnant, and without food. Without water. I guess there’s a cafe downstairs, and cups in the kitchen, but I’m trying to make a point. I guess I’m not succeeding.
And then Linda asked me to write a WHOLE GOD DAMN FUCKING JOB for her to find anyone in the Pactiv database with a $123.74 adjustment to claims, because one of her retards forgot to enter that shit on the stupid spreadsheet that they’re working on. I fucking refuse.
Sorry. Tuesday.
I can’t even stand it! It’s SOOOOO funny when someone leaves around here. It’s really reflecting poorly on Kris, and he goes crazy every time someone goes. For instance, today John got the great news that he found a new, well-paying, satisfying job out in Auburn Hills doing exactly what he went to school to do. WOW! And congrats! And all of the other things that go along with good news. I understand that this is a hardship on Aliquant to be losing people left and right, but there’s a problem with a place that doesn’t use any kind of language familiar to computer programmers actually requiring a computer programming degree from these people to work here! Those people will end up losing the education they paid a lot of money to acquire, and it’s completely not worth it for the kind of money we make around here. Ok, so back to the funny part – John has become pretty good friends with Morris, probably because they both smoke. Two or three times a day, they’ll go downstairs together and have a cig, relax outside for a while, and talk. Though the smoking part isn’t really advisable, it’s definitely better to have that relaxation period during the day rather than going all day being stressed and miserable. So John’s leaving today, and he asked Morris if he wanted to go downstairs for “one last puff”, if you will, but Kris was not going to have any of that, at least not before he got to get one last jab of “I’M THE BOSS” in to muck up the festivities. That’s HILARIOUS! I totally wish John would have said “I’ll do it when I get back”, but I know he couldn’t really, since Morris still works here and that would be kinda messing with his image too. Plus, John’s 10 years younger than Kris, and though Kris is a complete pudwhack, I guess I can see how he could be intimidating.
Ha ha ha! Great news! Another Aliquant employee is GONE! FLY FREE! WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOO!
Did you know that there’s a secret unwritten rule that if you’re going to a sports function, you must dress the part of being a die-hard sports fan? Regardless of whether or not you know a single stupid fact about sports, at all? Yes, it’s a rule. You’ll be shunned and laughed at if you don’t follow it. Actually, it looks like Kris isn’t following the rule. But Kris is too cool for school, so that excuses him from these silly unwritten rules.
I don’t know why I let these things get to me. I think really it has to do with the fact that I feel left out of something, something that I don’t want to be a part of, but the mere fact that I’m not included drives me to make fun of it like crazy. And constantly mutter curses and hexes upon people in cubes and offices behind me. It’s definitely a personal problem, this issue of mine. I see people grasping at the little threads of commonality they have with each other, and with these threads they weave an imaginary fabric of togetherness, and the whole thing really makes me ill! Because I know that people are all so different – I mean, I’m married and have been for almost 8 years, and there are things about Craig that I can handle, but I definitely don’t want to incorporate into my daily life (like his complete lack of knowledge of the world beyond our borders). There were things about Ravneet that I accepted as being her own thing, but I never took on her wacky eating habits just because she’s my friend. I guess it’s just a matter of extremes – I’ve never been the type to take an extreme approach to anything – it’s always middle of the road for me (except when it comes to loathing people – I’m a pretty avid loather). I can’t jump into a clique and suddenly feel like I must spend my every waking moment with those people. I can’t find out someone likes something cool, and then suddenly change my every thought from the beginning of thought about a subject, and decide “yes! i do love sports!” Because I just don’t! I like running, but I don’t really like racing! I enjoy hiking, but when people want to talk about hiking, I really want them to back off and go blab to someone who give a crap! The same goes for running, I suppose.
Though the boss doesn’t know yet, I’m sick of hiding it anymore. Once the boss does know, I’ll post again, and then I’ll feel all relaxed and comfortable with the news I’m about to share on this silly blog.
Tomorrow I think it’s “official” enough that I can start talking about it today – and most of you know this news already – but I’m pregnant! Twelve weeks pregnant, actually. I’ve been hiding it for a while because I just don’t really want to be pregnant and working at this crappy job; it was so horrible last time and I just can’t imagine things being much better this time around. I guess we’re in a new building, and I’ve had a lot more time to establish myself, so it could all work out fine. Anyway, there it is. We don’t know what it is yet, and probably won’t find out until sometime in July. We did hear the heartbeat for the first time a week ago though, and that was crazy! And really cool. So far my only symptoms have been that I’m bloated and gassy (ooh fun!), I go from being starving to feeling nauseous, and I tend to be crabby a lot. Those symptoms are dying off now and I’m starting to feel more human again, but the fact that I’ve already lost my flat tummy but I don’t look pregnant is still a little stressful. Even though I’ll have it for so long, the real “pregnant belly” look is so much easier to get used to than just being chunkier than normal. I’ve gained 4 pounds total, and now that I’m approaching the second trimester (starts tomorrow), supposedly I’ll start gaining more quickly. However, I’m hoping with every ounce of hope I can find in my body that I don’t swell up like a blowfish again… maybe I’ll get lucky.
Connor already knows, and he’s really cute – he said at first that he wants it to be a boy, but just recently he changed his mind and decided he wants a sister. Every time anyone asks him if he wants a sister or a brother, he first gets clarification from them on what a “sister” is, exactly. Eventually he’ll learn – and I’m so excited for him to be learning about such a cool thing! I mean, many kids these days will never know what a sibling is, because it’s so common to have one and be done with the family creation. It was what we were going to do, but things don’t always work out the way you plan. And as far as I’m concerned, this is an exceptional deviation from the plans.
So here are some pictures – my plan is to chronicle the progression of pregnancy as best as I can with pictures and journal entries. When I was pregnant with Connor, we did take a few pictures, but they were spaced so far apart that it really seems like I blew up overnight. I didn’t write enough either, and I know that with that pregnancy, I was pretty depressed… probably a little journaling here and there would have helped immensely. Anyway, I’m blabby. And I actually have a lot of work to do! So here’s the pictures, and then I’m off to do some actual work.
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- Me, just days before taking “the test”
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- Belly Shot – 8 weeks
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- 12 weeks (today!)
I’m crabby today. And I’m not exactly sure why… well I am sure why but as of yet, I can’t post anything about it. Soon though. But here are the random reasons that I’m extra crabby, and though this is bound to be boring, it’s going to make me feel better.
There’s no water in the water jug. For more reasons than I can count, I refuse to drink the water from the taps in this building, because I’m sure they’re laced with arsenic and lead. And I don’t like arsenic and lead flavored water, so the water machine being out of service really bothers me. I need water. I guess I’m going to go downstairs and buy an earth-killing plastic water bottle full of water, likely from a different tap somewhere else, but at least it’s not these taps.
People are huge geeks around here. Their nerdiness is gross and frustrating, because they all think they’re really cool. I guess it’s expected in a computer programming environment for people to talk about computer games and XBOX shit like it’s real life, but to me it’s just SO infuriating how removed from the real world they are, and how isolated I feel. I feel like I’m an old person for reading the New York Times instead of www.thinkgeek.com for the newest dumb toy to buy. And I must be a big fat momma for talking about my kid instead of the newest Final Fantasy or Grand Theft Auto game. Or a lazy old wife for not wanting to play softball with a bunch of fake shitty assholes.
I don’t want to participate in the food thing today. I initiated it by asking Scott if he was going to do it again, and I guess he is going to because he’s buying Pizza House pizza today. Pizza House is some snooty Ann Arbor restaurant – and I know it’s snooty because Casey has a big thing for an item on their menu and that is a sure sign of snootyness. I guess it’s good pizza, but I can’t taste anything anyway. And I hate it how people get their little picks in, just for going into Scott’s office and schmoozing with him. I guess I could have, and I’m just mad that I didn’t do it early enough. Because maybe they have soup at Pizza House. I want soup.
I’m mad that Craig’s working tonight. I’m mad that soccer starts tomorrow and I feel like shit and I have to take Connor to it and Craig’s just going to sleep in all fucking morning.
I’m annoyed that Mike keeps on putting little comments in his status message about his canceled marriage – like I give a shit that it all fell apart! I wouldn’t marry that creep either! And I sure as hell don’t want to read about every little aspect of his life; that his wedding was called off, that his house is going to be foreclosed, that he’s moving in a day, that he got drunk over the weekend… please! Spare us the news! WE DON’T CARE!!!
