10 Things I Hate About You: Pregnancy Edition
As this pregnancy progresses, I’m finding myself more and more irritable. Not just regular bitchy, because I’m not really known for doing the politically correct thing anyway. But zero filter on my mouth kind of instant bitchy. I used to operate at about a 10-20% filter most days, but now it’s completely gone.
10 things I hate about you:
1. I hate you if you are drinking an alcoholic beverage. Don’t offer me a mocktail. Don’t offer me a de-alcoholized beer. If people drank because they liked the taste, you wouldn’t need a wedge of lime after a tequila shot and you wouldn’t throw up after drinking too much. I don’t care how fucking good that cake is. I’m not going to eat it until I puke. But if it got me drunk, I might think about it.
2. I hate you if you can sneeze/cough/laugh/go up stairs/ trip/ or any other activity without pissing yourself a little bit.
3. I hate you if you are sleeping peacefully through the night. Curling up in any position you want, without a little alien jabbing you to protest your current choice. I hate you if you had a glass of wine to help you sleep. Wait. I already said that.
4. I hate you if you can still wear shoes that actually go with your outfit. I will hate you less once it’s summer and I can wear flip flops too, but until then, I’m praying that you break your ankle in those heels, just so I’m not the only one hobbling around in sensible flats.
5. I hate you if you take up two parking spots instead of one with your big truck. I’m really sorry for your other shortcomings, but I’m more sorry about the fact that now my fat ass has to walk further to my building on campus.
6. I also hate you if you park too close to me. Have you seen the gut I’m sporting, asshole? Do you think I can suck it in and squeeze in the 6 inches of space you’ve left between our cars? That’s ok. I’ll just wait for you to return to your vehicle before I can go home. Or I’ll ram my car door into yours extra hard to make myself feel better. Or I’ll slash your tires. Whichever.
7. I hate you if you are eating a ham sandwich. I know, I know. I can heat the lunch meat in the microwave until “steaming hot” to ward off the Listeria fears. But it’s not the same. Sometimes, a girl just needs a trip to the deli. Ya know?
8. I hate you if you are a stranger or acquaintance and feel like you can touch me just because I’m pregnant. Remember what I said about zero filter? I might have been able to restrain myself from punching you in the face before, but now, NO guarantees.
9. I hate you if you are a man. Because no person will come out of your vagina ever.
10. I hate you if you are able to keep yourself tidy down there. Shaving has already become a hope and pray situation. Like crossing an intersection if you can’t see if there is oncoming traffic or not. I can’t see what the hell I’m doing, so I’m pretty sure it ain’t pretty. If you are a Slavic, no nonsense esthetician who wants to take care of that for me, give me a call.
I’m gonna go get myself a Blizzard now, while the rest of you bitches are watching your weight. So there.