You guys. I’m trying. I had plans. I made a schedule. And here I am, it is wednesday and I’m just going to tell you about my sorry self some more.
This weekend I became super violently ill while Christmas shopping. I was trapped, sweaty, feeling like I was going to pass out, worried I was going to pass out in Macy’s bathroom AND THEN WHAT. I had visions of Kamel and Gabe busting down the gross bathroom door and finding my limp, passed out body. Or worse, waking up after passing out on the gross bathroom floor that smelled like icky bleach water. I didn’t. But it was a struggle there for awhile.
I was trapped in that icky bathroom for an hour, hating my life, until I could shuffle to the car. While in the bathroom I overheard many conversation.
First was a little girl and her mom in a stall next to me.
“Did you poop?”
Her mom gives an inaudible answer.
“I pooped too!” the little girl says, “And so did Grandma! We all pooped!”
Three cheers for everyone.
Then 2 women came in, and maybe they were drunk. I say this because they were overly sincere with each other…. which maybe tells you more about my cynicism than anything else. They were arguing over the scale that was in the bathroom.
“Sissy, sissy…. don’t you get on that scale. Don’t you do it.”
“It says I’m 204.”
“Sissy, don’t you believe that scale, it isn’t real. It is NOT real.”
“It’s the same kind they have at the Y. It is real. I believe it.”
“Well look at that big jacket you have on! You can’t count the weight with all of those clothes on.”
“Now it says I’m 200. Could this jacket really weigh 4 lbs?!”
“Sissy, I’m telling you. Do not believe that scale. Don’t trust it. It’s not real.”
This went on for a really long time, bless their hearts.
Basically, I’m still sick. I wish every day I could be home in my pajamas and never leave my bed. I dread going to work and my mental capacity is for survival only. I am VERY unfortunately not looking forward to dragging my ass through these holidays. I’m just not. I wish I could stay in my room the whole time. OR I wish I could miraculously feel better. But fat chance of that happening.
But, in other news, baby is still alive. And I’m now at 10 weeks. 4 more weeks to go until I maybe feel better. Yippee.