Go Ahead, Ask Me About My Monday!

Okay, so here's my "believable" excuse. Honestly, I wasn't being a blog slacker this weekend, I just hadn't blogged anything that would interest anyone except my family, so I didn't bother wasting anyone's time here. As for Monday's excuse, well, I think this post pretty well sums up how my Monday went, and I'm certain you will all forgive me for not writing on that day. Had I blogged this on Monday it would have been nothing more than a bitching rant about how much I hated everything. Having held off a day, I am satisfied that it has evolved into a semi-humorous rambling of what a messed up day I had. And no doubt, the length certainly makes up for all three days of missed postings.

I feel that someone should really write to my neighbors and warn them that they are living next door to a highly volatile hormonal pregnant woman.

Previously, my complaints have been limited to minor venting. However, after this past week, I’m on the verge of hiring the local vagabonds to wreak havoc on my neighbors.

Let me elaborate:

In the past, I have been quite disturbed by the fact that my neighbors have allowed their dog (I like to call him Spot) to do his business in the small patch of grass that we like to call a front yard. The housing director has attempted to rectify this situation. First by sending out a news letter announcing that it is just disgusting to allow your animals to poop in the yard and demanding that everyone pick up after their animals. Second, by speaking personally to them about Spot’s preferred location of defecating. Both times, the yard has been immediately cleaned. However, this seems to go in one ear and out the other as they yard quickly fills up with the offending brown material soon after the confrontation.

At this point it must be noted that I am losing my patience. Last week, this 28-week pregnant, waddling hippo made two trips to her car to haul in about 10 bags of groceries in the freezing cold. As I rounded the corner of the apartment building, arms loaded with 3 gallons of milk, I looked up from the careful placing of each awkward step to notice Spot was doing his business in the “front yard” while his 20 something owner stood at the screen door and watched. Had she not immediately called him inside and shut her door, I would have confronted her on it. I mean honestly, how hard would it have been for her to have taken 5 steps out the door and directed Spot (who doesn’t know better) to poop in the part of the yard that is not immediately in front of our doors? It cannot be harder than carrying 20 extra pounds around on the front of your stomach every day.

To make matters worse, last night everything just went to hell in a handbag. Frankly, by the time I got to sleep, I was just proud that I had not committed a multiple homicide in the course of the evening.

My day started when my darling dearest entered the bedroom at 8:06 am and asked if I was going to work. (I’m supposed to be at work at 8:15). I leapt from my bed, banging the back of my hand on the corner of the two-drawer file cabinet that doubles as a nightstand. I immediately walked to the living room (shivering in my underwear) and called work to let them know I was running late. After perfecting the many yoga positions that are required for a pregnant woman to get dressed in the morning, I relaxed while an apologetic man started my car. I then waddled through the blustering drizzle, carefully avoiding the patch of black ice that I had been warned about, got in my car and drove to work. I then managed though a pretty uneventful day at work.

After work, I made my way to the post office to collect a package I was expecting from my mother. While the all day drizzle was little more than a cold and annoying mist, it was collecting at a rapid enough rate to send cold droplets of water dripping from the awning of a building down the back of my neck. After about twenty minutes in line, listening to some twit tell the post lady why she had to mail her packages at the last minute, I finally collected one of the two expected packages and drove home. I managed to throw a purse over one shoulder, my soda in that hand, and balance the box on a hip with the keys in that hand, while I kicked the car door shut (all the while, looking more and more like a drowning cat). Having secured my vehicle I took four waddling steps forward, only to realize I had left the headlights on! (My apologies to the neighbor who nicely stepped outside to inform me of this. I would have acknowledged her was I not focused on balancing all of my junk and a pregnant belly on a traction-challenged surface.)

Waddling back to the driver’s door, I tried to figure out how to free one hand enough to get a key in the lock. This in itself was an act that Circ de Sole would be proud to call their own. After shutting off the headlights, relocking the doors, and rebalancing the box, I managed to waddle carefully to the apartment.

I was happily greeted by my darling dearest, who attentively admired each outfit I modeled for him and offered up roast and potatoes he had prepared for supper. Later, he offered to take me to the movies, since he would have to work on Valentine’s Day. After choosing a movie, he decided to take a nap, and I took the half hour to chat with my family online. At the predetermined time, I woke my darling and we prepared for a night on the town. Dressed and pressed we headed for the door where, upon opening it, we were greeted by two inches of snow that had not been there the hour before! Beings that we are both of a rather stubborn determined nature, we decided it wasn’t slick so what the heck. We mushed onward to the car. I then sat in the warmth of the passenger seat as he swept the snow off of all the windows (you know that wet, my dog pissed on this, sticky snow that you can’t even shake off). Realizing that it was still snowing, and not certain of just how bad it was expected to get, the two of us decided that a trip to the gas station was as far as we were going to attempt.

Reluctantly, we returned home with beverages to satisfy both of us. As we turned the corner of the apartment building, what to my wondering eyes did I see? It was SPOT! Right there in his “favorite” place, leaving a little gift to offend my olfactory glands. Where was the male half of his ownership? Standing at the screen door watching as the dog did his business! I cannot believe this! The two of us, have just left the warmth of the apartment to go six blocks and this couple cannot step outside the door of their apartment onto the step (which has a roof over it) to assure their dog does his duty in a less offensive area! I am simply appalled at the laziness (not to mention the fresh smell of doggy manure).

The rest of the night progressed in a pretty uneventful manner, until which time that I decided to go to bed.

Realizing I had early doctor’s appointments the following morning, I felt that I should get some sleep at a decent time. I shut everything down about 9:30 pm, shut off the lights, and proceeded through the regular bedtime routines. I then maneuvered the sleeping beast back onto his side of the bed in order to retrieve my body pillow (a necessary item for any pregnant woman who intends to sleep a wink) from underneath him. Finally, satisfied that everything was in order, I popped two Flintstone’s vitamins and curled up in a semi-comfortable position that rather resembles a hippopotamus with a leg lock on a giant red sea cow.

As I closed my eyes and began to fantasize about wearing a string bikini on some deserted tropical beach, three things happened in a simultaneous manner: the baby decided to begin an aerobic kickboxing routine, I suddenly had to pee again, and my ears were invaded by the thumping sound of my neighbor’s subwoofer blaring through my living room and bedroom walls.
Not entirely prepared to give up on my honest attempt at sleep, I decided to ignore the baby (and the fact that I had to pee) and instead, I stuck headphones in my ears to drown out the subwoofer. It did not take long to realize that this was not an effective solution to my problem and I was immediately furious.

I sat bolt upright in bed and threw the headphones across the room, which resulted in my darling dearest awaking in a panic asking me if I was okay, to which I mumbled some obscenity under my breath and stormed into the living room where I banged on the adjoining wall as hard as I could (great, now my hand hurts all the way to my elbow).

Luckily for my neighbors, there is a distinctive difference between the sound of an irritated neighbor banging on the wall and the sound that a pissed off pregnant chick makes when she is standing in her underwear slapping your wall with all her might. The subwoofer was silenced upon demand. This is of course the only thing that prevented me from marching outside in the snow (in my underwear) and banging on their front door only to strangle them with an extension cord as soon as they opened it.

Finally blessed with some much-needed silence, I returned to the comfort (I use the term lightly) of a bed that is not equipped to hold two grown adults and the ever-growing stomach they have created. Of course, by now, I’m so worked up that sleep would have been difficult anyway, but to make matters worse, I am overcome with a bout of restless leg syndrome. Oh, the joys of pregnancy. What were those joys again?

I removed myself from the bed (about as graceful as an elephant attempting to climb a tree) and proceeded back to the living room until a later time. After searching though several internet sites, reading a couple of messages that were left for me, and venting on my mother via messenger, I was finally able to make a final attempt at sleep. Thankfully this time, I was much more successful and soon found myself lounging under a giant umbrella, sipping piňa coladas as some native islander painted my toenails (yes, I fantasize about painted toenails. You would to0 if you could hardly reach yours.)

On the plus side, I woke up today and found that the roads were clear enough that I did not have to reschedule the three appointments I had planned. I learned that a glucose test is not nearly as bad as I expected, and I passed with flying colors. We picked up our photos from Sears and even bought the extra prints they offered at a “special” price. I got to spend the whole evening chatting with my favorite cousin online and I thoroughly enjoyed tonight’s episode of House. I guess my neighbors can live another day.