Warning: Entering the Cranky Zone
So there's nothing like being called fat in public to get your week off to a great start. This time, my sister was the culprit. That's the thanks I get for all the time and effort---and cash---I put into her bridal shower. Not to mention putting up with my aunt for three days. I was left alone with her for one afternoon and it was seriously like living with Rain Man. She would bring a dress down to show me and then, while holding it mere feet from me in a well-lit room, say "So this is black and white and has flowers on it." Because apparently I had been struck blind.
Then my flights back were delayed because of weather. And despite my careful packing so that I'd only have a carry-on, I had to check one of my bags because the rest of the passengers are a bunch of selfish jerks. I know I get entirely too worked up about the carry-on issue, but really. I follow the rules; why can't everyone else? I bring one small wheely bag that fits perfectly into the little size checker and fits nicely in the overhead compartment with plenty of space left for the others in my row and I have an "overnight" bag that I put under my seat. And men are the worst offenders with this. They carry on these ginormous garment bags AND a "laptop case" that's usually bigger than my wheely. Grrrr. So instead of just walking out of the airport, I had to wait for my bag. So I didn't get home until nearly 2 a.m. on Monday morning. Only to find that the apartment parking lot was nearly full. Apparently everyone in the complex got an extra car over the weekend and invited their extended family to stay because that's the only way that lot should be that full. I had to park about eight buildings away from mine.
So I woke up yesterday exhausted and emotionally wrecked. And absolutely certain that I will have neither children nor a husband because three days in a house with other people was more than I could take. I just don't live well with others. I'm not good with patience. Or compromise. When I wake up, I want to be able to get into my bathroom. Right then. I don't want to wait. When I'm watching television, I want to watch it in peace and not be interrupted by a fashion show for the visually challenged or have someone sit next me to and talk on the phone.
Anyway, so I took the day off yesterday. But today, I had to face the inevitable: Returning to work. And all was going mostly well. I woke up a little late because I had trouble sleeping, but I showered and dressed quickly and was ready to go at my usual time. All that was left was taking Rowen outside for her potty. Well . . . it took an hour and three trips outside before Rowen would actually go potty. Which meant that I was leaving the apartment an hour later than usual. Which meant that I was leaving the apartment right at the peak of morning rush hour instead of just a little ahead of it. Which meant that I had to deal with all the idiot Texas drivers who think the laws of physics don't apply to them.
All of which is more than enough to make me very cranky. But I'm also attempting one last crash diet so I can fit into the bridesmaid dress, which somehow shrunk while sitting in my mother's closet. I can get the skirt on and zipped; I just can't breathe at the same time. And, well, I'd like to avoid having any more family members call me fat. Because the way things are going, they'll probably have the DJ announce it: "Please clear the floor so Lisa and her fat ass can have this dance."
So I'm hungry, tired, and supercranky. And the week is just getting started.