You know, it's really difficult to pull off any semblance of grace or at least appearing "pulled together," when you're as big as a house and suffering from a case of the pregnancy dum-dums. This morning I had to let myself back in my house twice after attempting to leave because of forgetting things; the first time it was the car keys, second time it was my whole purse. Yeah. My purse. Somehow I tried to leave without it.
Then, within 5 minutes of getting to work, I spilt coffee down the front of my shirt. This isn't such a huge tragedy, since I'd already determined that it's actually a little too small and the button that protects the rest of the world from having to see my oversized boobs wasn't doing a fantastic job of staying done anyways. Luckily, I live about 5 minutes from work, so I left to go home and change. Then, when I walked out the door to head back, I realized I'd forgotten the other thing I was going to grab while at home: a paper cup to pour the remainder of my coffee into when I got back to work, since I figured I might have better luck drinking out of it than the leaky thermos.
Two days ago, I ripped a small hole into the belly of another maternity shirt by catching it on the corner of a file cabinet drawer in my office. My growing gut had betrayed me once again. It's not like I have an endless supply of clothing that actually fits, you know. I certainly don't have enough that I can afford to ruin two or 3 a week.
Sigh, the rest of the day's got to get better, right?
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