Pregnant Beast Insanity

You know those days where you feel like everything in the universe got together for a secret meeting with the sole agenda being how they (the universe) can plot to send you spiraling into a dark abyss of rage and hate? Oh, you don't? Hmmm. Weird.

My new found hero, Allie*, brilliantly coined this phenomenon, a "Sneaky Hate Spiral," and today, well, mostly just this evening, actually, I found myself in the midst of my very own sneaky spiral of hate.

It started with more of a hate ambush, actually. My mom called me and exclaimed that some soulless, hateful, wretch of a white-trash-no-good-lilly-livered-two-bit-sonoffabeach-scheister stole the potted lilies she left on my brother's grave a couple of days ago. I couldn't believe it. Who would do that?

After we raged to each other and ruminated about the sure damnation of whomever it was that would do such a thing, we hung up the phone and I sat for a while stewing over the suckiness of humanity in general. Naturally, I dreamed up an elaborate plot to wait in my brother's cemetery this summer, clad in ninja gear, ready to pounce and assassinate any would-be flower/hope-in-humanity burglers. I felt confidant that no one would ever suspect a largely pregnant woman to be capable of a crane kick to the face. And that's exactly how I planned to administer the assassination.

After I felt satisfied with my assassination plot, I decided I should head to the gym to begin training. Since I haven't gone to work out since the very beginning of this pregnancy, just the thought of getting some exercise made me feel all wonder-womany and empowered. Look how awesome you are for going to the gym when you're feeling all sub-par and pregnant. Everyone will think you're so adorable and admirable with your pregnant belleh bouncing around on that elliptical. You'll probably make some new friends. And when you explain that you are simply there to get in shape to selflessly rid the world of flower/hope killers they'll think you're a real hero!

Yes. This was a great idea.

I gleefully pulled a pair of spandex workout pants from my closet and pulled them up over my protruding stomach. I'm currently in the awkward regular-to-maternity clothes transition where nothing fits quite right, and my non-maternity workout pants cut me off right in the middle of my baby bump. And it gave me a complete BIF**. Which happens to be my very favorite look.

I decided not to be discouraged, pulled on one of Sam's t-shirts and went on my way. I made my way to the front door where Sam was studying on the couch and, in a plea for moral support, turned to him and asked, "Am I too fat for these pants right now?" WARNING! WARNING EVERYBODY!

Sam looked me up and down, furrowed his brow, and said, "Hmmm. Turn around."

HOW!? HOW!? HOW ARE YOU STILL SO STUPID?! HOOOOOWW!?

Me: Um, you really should have just said, "no."

Sam: Honey, you're pregnant!

Me: Not in my thighs! Thanks.

Sam: No, it goes everywhere baby. Thighs, butt, arms. You know.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: Alright, that's enough out of you. You really should have just said, "no." (DEATH STARE)

I exited immediately feeling the flower ninja rage start to fester up again in my gut.

I pulled up to the gym and parked alongside a car whose driver was still sitting in his seat. As I got out of my car, I saw him exit his in my peripheral. He was startlingly tall and huge and looked like a yeti. And he proceeded to walk six inches behind me the entire way into the gym. I kept waiting for his foot to scrape down the back of my achilles. He was that close.

He continued to close-walk up the stairs all the way to the cardio room. I considered blasting him with a horsekick behind me on the way. I shot him a crusty over my shoulder. I pretended to stumble in hopes that he would dodge me and move on. But Yeti was undeterred. When we entered the cardio room, much to my dismay and bewilderment, he climbed right up onto the elliptical next to mine. And as we started up our machines, I noticed him peeking over at me as I entered my weight. Judging me.

It didn't help that both my weight and age had increased since the last time I had been at the gym. And that my little TV didn't work. And that Yeti smirked and blew a little snot out of his nose when he saw me discover that it wasn't turning on.

What is going on here? Were you sent here by the flower/murderers of hope and love to taunt me? YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME, YETI!?

I sat there, glancing longingly from side to side as he and the lady on the other side of me chuckled along to "The Office" while they labored away.

After Yeti had worked up a nice sweat, he lumbered over to one of the huge communal fans in the corner and proceeded to hercules it over his head and set it down right beside his elliptical on the side opposite of the side where I was located. He positioned it so that the air was being blown directly across his body and blasting me in the face with his sweaty stench. And then he got back on his machine and began pumping his arms up and down.

I hated Yeti. I hated him even more as his huge Yeti body started making his machine jump around because he was getting a little too enthused about his workout and he had clearly left the "resistance" at the lowest level causing a complete elliptical spazz-out. And I hated the lady on the other side of me whose TV worked and who took her cues from Yeti and went ahead and positioned a fan on the other side of her, forcing me into a turbo-wind vortex of stranger B.O. and SARS and bird flu.

And I felt the hate start to boil over, consuming my body. And I did a jedi-mind hulk t-shirt shred... in my mind. And threw some heavy equipment through the second story window. And I verbally berated Yeti about how he was a dude and how he should be over on the treadmills with the other dudes because his body was too huge and lumber-y to be graceful on an elliptical....

Things really took a turn for the worse when I finished up my workout and made my way to the exit. I noticed Yeti immediately shut down his machine and walk towards the exit as well. No, No this can't be happening. I left in a hurry, Yeti still right behind me. It all came to a head when his close-walking continued all the way back to my car. I couldn't handle it anymore. I turned around and raised my hand to try to slap him. He grabbed my wrist and muscled me up against the garage wall and slapped me in the face over and over. They weren't really hard slaps. Just mostly hard enough to let me know he meant business.

Just kidding. None of that happened. I never even went to the gym. Just kidding again. Only the him following me out and slapping me part didn't happen. Oh, and I never tried to slap him either. But you can imagine what it would have been like if I did.

I don't really know what else to say. Because truthfully, I just finished my work out and left. And felt a little better as soon as I got out of the stink-vortex-of-hate-and-everything-bad. And I feel even better now that I've spewed everything out on this here blog post. But if you feel like recounting this story to any of your friends, feel free to end it with the slapping part. I won't judge you. But I will say that those flower/happiness ruiners really have it coming this summer.

And now I've got to go say family prayer.

*Read her blog at your own risk. Your productivity will be hindered greatly and you will start to only ever be able to think in terms of her illustrations.

**If you know what this is, you'll think what I said was funny. If you don't, I'm sorry.