Originally posted on July 18, 2008
Oh shit, I can’t button any of my pants! Everything I’d tried on all week getting ready for work, makes me look like an overweight hooker. A useful look when I’m clubbing but not for work. I admit, I’ve been eating like mad for about a week straight. The fact that my lovely co-workers had a Birthday Brunch for me yesterday didn’t help either (though the food was unreal). I feel like crap…physically and mentally. What?! My Chubby-Chick ‘stand-by’ pants don’t fit either?! And that ain’t even the worst of it. All work week, every pair of cute panties I chose seemed too small too. Each day, each pair of my underwear continued to creep up my crack with each passing step. Ouch! How am I gonna politely dig these outta my butt in the middle of the hallway? People will think that I don’t wash my crack and that I’m scratching. Crap! (no pun intended) Hit the Cancel and Reset buttons cause ya girl ain’t going out like that! No way! I’m just gonna keep walking painfully, until my underwear split me two, if I have to. Or, until I can get to my office or the bathroom so I can dig them out in private. What happened?! Even my ‘boobage’ is giving me problems. They’re just not cooperating. I’m wondering to myself, ‘When getting ready for work, did I accidentally put on one of my cleavage club bras again?’ Cause my jugglies are doing a seductive dance for everyone at work and I don’t seem to have any control over them. My clothes don’t fit. My panties don’t fit. Even my bra doesn’t fit! What all did I eat yesterday? What about the day before that? Hmm, I wonder. If all that wasn’t enough, everyone for the last week or so has been getting on my last nerve. I want to step on the neck of every Sunday driver that speeds up to get in front of me, only to resume their leisurely 30-mile-an-hour funeral pace. Is he trying to get me to jump out of my truck and do a dance on his face? Is she goading me into shooting her the bird while I pass her on the shoulder? These butthole drivers are testing me. I just know it. They don’t know I’m a woman on the edge. They don’t know just how close to danger they are. And you know, I will fight…physically. Fighting isn’t my chosen method of resolution but I’ll go there if I have to. You know I will. While at the grocery store yesterday, I’m looking for a cake for a friend leaving on a 2 month sabbatical. I’m wondering, ‘Why is this bozo following me around the store?’ Who the hell does he think he’s kidding? He isn’t looking at the cheese, he’s only pretending. I take two steps, he takes two. Okay dude, what’s the deal? What do you want? Why won’t you let me shop in peace? Finally, he says something to me. I annoyingly answer, “Excuse me?” He replies, “Can I give you one of my cards?” I reply, “Why?” He says he’s a handyman and maybe I know someone that needs some work done. He hands me a card which claims that he’s a ‘jack of all trades.’ Yeah buddy, I just bet you are! I’m OUT…where’s the Liquid Plumber aisle damn?! Finally, I make it home. I check my e-mail. I’m thinking, ‘Why the heck is this boy writing me another e-mail?’ I didn’t reply to the last two, so why write another? What do you want from me? His dumbazz can’t even spell. (By the way, I know how I just spelled ass) Oh Lord, now he’s IMing me. Leave me alone perv! I’m gonna ignore him. I just want to sit peacefully in my bed and surf The Net. Forget it, I’m just gonna sign out and go to sleep. This morning, more of the same. My damn pants don’t fit right. I tried on 4 pairs this morning and none of them looked right. I think to myself ‘I’ll just wear these…I guess’. I get to work, finally, after passing all the Mr. MaGoo drivers that think if they drive slow to work, that somehow their work building will magically disappear or something, so that they can have a free day off. I’m thinking, ‘Just get there azzhole. And go quickly so you can get the hell outta my way.’ I want to hurry up and get my day started so I can go back home and rest. So, I’m at work. I go upstairs to get ice and see a chick I know that talks too much. Why me? Why today of all days? We lost weight together a few years ago. She looks like she’s maintaining hers. But wait! I saw that! Is she staring at my belly? Oh no she didn’t! [she said soulfully] Yeah, I caught you! I’m positive she’s staring at my middle wondering what happened to me. Okay now…at this point…I can feel my blood boiling. You know what, I’m just gonna walk off, cause I’m mere inches away from telling her off. I’m walking away, with my back totally to her, when I answer one of her dumb questions. But then, I get this feeling that she’s staring at my ample butt. Yeah, I know what she’s doing. She staring at the new junk in my trunk as I walk away. I’m bitch!’ I’m just gonna sit at my desk and stew. Sitting there, I decide that I’m going to stay to myself all day. People just aren’t safe around me. Dang! My feet hurt. My head hurts. My back hurts. My nipples hurt. My clothes don’t fit. And to top it all off, everyone’s getting on my fucking nerves. Then it hits me…ohhhh…’Aunt Flo’ is coming for another monthly visit. Pass me the Midol. Whew! Okay then, that makes sense. That’s okay. I realize then, that in a few short days, I’ll be back in my cute jeans and work pants. I’ll be back to my normal sweet, smart, sexy, witty, charming and modest self very shortly. That is of course, until ‘the cycle’ begins again in another 28 days. I tell you, being a woman is such a rewarding, insightful and delightful experience. I just wish men could be as lucky as we are.
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