Like, it's not like anything really went wrong.
But maybe you haven't slept well in a while, and pretty terribly the last few nights. And everyone you know who has had a kid is all, "Yeah. Welcome to the rest of your
And so somehow today you hate everything. Specifics might include: the weather; the things you're trying to finish up; most of your colleagues; your thighs; your itchy stomach; your back - which is constantly pulled by aforementioned stomach; your swollen feet; your maternity fucking wardrobe.
You probably don't hate puppies or rainbows, but you haven't run across either yet today.
You encouraged your husband to run over pedestrians who crossed against the light. And yet, you are likely to be one of those against-the-light crossering pedestrians later in the day. And you will most certainly hate the cars who are (legitimately) trying to go.
Once out of the car and walking those last few blocks to work, you hated the amblers in front of you. You gave the worst fuck-you-bitch look to the woman who inched in front of you into the crosswalk. She wasn't trying to get in your way - she just wanted to have a jump on the right turn when the light changed. Selfish cow.
You hate that your morning was one eternal meeting. And in that meeting, you really had to focus on not giving wilting oh-shut-up-loathe-looks.
You hate that you are hating everything. And yet, you cannot figure out how to turn it around.
It's the kind of day and mood where, by 10 am, you were tempted to do shots of grain alcohol, but even if you ever saw that as a reasonable option - and I'm almost sure it's not - it most certainly is out of the question right now. But it's not like the temptation has subsided.
That, my friends, is me today.