Thursday, August 14, 2008

Beyond the Usual Crankiness

God, my knees are fat. How does someone have fat knees? Knees are supposed to be knobby. I feel like the baby's going to come out and go, "Oh, look at the little pulkes, I just want to bite them!" and I'm going to be like, "Wait, that's my line!"

There's something up with me the last few days. I feel very run down, very bad. Very exhausted, beyond the breathlessness I'm used to -- I can't just fix it by slowing down. I'm dizzy a lot and, worst of all, I'm angry all the time. 

Part of it is resentment. My job took away the best benefit I had -- the ability to work from home 1-2 days a week. Right now, this would make a huge, huge difference: my blood pressure's up, I'm dizzy and downright tired much of the time, and if I didn't have to drag myself on the bus and train two days a week, I'd have so much more energy. Worst of all, everyone else in the office seems to be able to leave work whenever they feel a little woozy, checking in from home with no splashback; because I'm pregnant, everyone expects me to be a lazy piece of shit, so I have to look like little miss busy beaver to avoid getting snippy, mocking comments from my higher-ups. 

But it's more than that. I'm downright unbearable everywhere. I got in a Brooklyn-style throwdown with a guy on the train this morning. Granted, the guy was a total stooge -- he had a pair of those walking-poles that look like ski-poles, and was waving them around as he walked, rather than actually placing them IN the special quiver that lay empty across his back. Bad enough he was doing this on a near-empty bus, but when he was squeezing onto a packed train with them, I had to say something-- but see, that's the problem. I had to? I felt like I had to. 

I also felt like I had to snipe at the lady in the shoe-repair place yesterday, who was taking ten years to explain to me that my card was declined (yes, I get it, I GET IT, HERE IS THE CASH, STOP TELLING ME HOW BANKS WORK), and that I had to elaborately over-apologize to the coffee guy yesterday for saying "large" when I meant "medium." ("Have a nice day, ma'am.") My skin is so thin, it is essentially nonexistent, and I feel like I'm going to dissolve into wracking sobs at any moment. 

I have no idea what to do. I know I'm not supposed to feel this way, but I also don't know how to impress upon others that I can't bat back their badminton-shuttlecocks of small annoyances right now. And, you know, they're all small. Individually, they don't seem like much. But I feel much more easily overwhelmed these days. And it doesn't help that every time I ask for help and get it, my instinct is to follow up with "But I could have done that myself." I know I have to work on my end, too, and pipe up for what I need even if it means I'm rewarded with a martyred, disappointed face. 

Eh, I'm going to own my unbearableness for today and talk to my doctor tomorrow. well, my midwife, and then I'll see if I can get my hands on my doctor. I know I'm not supposed to feel like this. I love being pregnant -- it's just everything else that stinks right now. 

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