I was all set to write a joyous post today, about the impending love of motherhood and the miracle of babyfaces seen so very early....but I can't. Not anymore.
Having a Very. Annoying. Day.
Since I finally seem to have some energy back, I trooped down to Victoria's Secret to try and buy a bra. See, I don't fit my bras anymore. They hurt. I fit one bra. And it is now a little ripe. This is becoming a dire situation. Now, I'm well aware that VS is not the snazziest place to buy bras, but honestly, I don't know how long the thing will fit me (we're not even necessarily talking throughout the pregnancy here) and I don't want to just throw down a ton of money. So VS it is.
Or was. They do, actually, have comfortable bras there, if you look hard enough. This support-with-no-underwire thing could totally work for me. Except for one problem--there is no way I could wear that bra with anything other than a turtleneck. I don't think I wear absurdly low-cut tops (most of the time) but this bra would show under a t-shirt. My breasts do not come up to my clavicle. Nor do I think they will in the future.
Grrrr. And this was Soho, so it was annoying and crowded and full of smokers and I was hungry and tired and my dress still isn't on right (must ask coworker to retie bow).
And when I got back to the office, an enormous job of which I have no understanding whatsoever how to do (is not my field) was removed from the desks of everyone, and placed on mine alone, for the sole purpose of annoying my boss. Who, by the way, would never know about it. AWESOME.
Toss in a few more of these, and you have my day. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Must get back into decent frame of mind. Today is Toaster's 12th birthday, and it is full of electronics and French food and joy and laughter. Bras and office shenanigans have no place. Singing Happy Birthday through gritted teeth doesn't quite seem like it will strike quite the right note....
I'll just take five and go look at pictures of kittens and babies and beaches and Toaster making funny faces.