Really?!

There are just some things happening to me that make me go....really? Seriously? Double. You. Tee. Eff.

 Here are just some random things about pregnancy I just love. (Sarcasm intended, folks.)

Gagging....
I can be walking through my house, and out of the blue,  I just gag. It is quite annoying. But, thank God, it's just that and NOT puking. I couldn't handle both.

Peeing...
my ass and the toilet seat should be BFF's by now, as much as I go to the bathroom. I'm so over the peeing.

My nipples....
Seriously. They crack me up. I literally laugh when I get a glimpse of them. I just wish I had someone to show them to. I mean, I could show them to Charlie, but he's blind. And he's a dog. So even if he wasn't blind, he wouldn't find the humor in these crazy ass things! If I had a fella, I would so be that chick that walks into the room or yells from the bathroom, "Baby, check these things OUT!" But I can't. Damn it.

Someone that is not elevated to "close friend" status but "acquaintance" status touching my belly...
WTF?! Really, did you just do that dude? Yes, this was a man! Did you seriously just effin' touch my stomach? While I find you very nice, we are not close enough for you to freakin' do that!

Creepy old(er) men....Okay, so this has nothing to do with being pregnant. I'm just over them. don't grab me. don't hug me. Don't try to flirt with me. And seriously DO NOT comment on my tee shirt which says "bite me" and say, "I told you about wearing that naughty shirt. I oughta take you out back and spank you." Seriously....okay, we'll go out back, and I will go ghetto on your ass and whoop the shit out of you, you effin' creep. I get riled up just thinking about it!

Maternity pants....
I love 'em!!! And the sarcasm has been dropped. I....LOVE...THEM...first of all, my favorite things to live in are comfy shorts with their elastic waistband. I mean, I live in my purple PINK shorts, so why wouldn't I love comfy maternity pants. They are fabulous. Just fabulous. I heart you elastic waistband.

Tomorrow is the end of my days at the part time job. I've been dreading going in the past two or three weekends, but I suck it up becasue I love the extra money. But last Sunday, I was so put out by any request no matter how trivial that I was in permanent "F*ck You" state of mine. The little grandma that asked me for a straw....sure, I"ll get you a straw. F*ck you." Yeah, it's time to go.