Old People Are Pissing Me Off

And I'm not talking "old" like my grammie and grampie (in their late 80's), I'm talking about those damn meme's that are in their 60's and have bad dye-jobs.

I just left an intramural soccer game at The Kid's school and I was sitting behind one of these meme's, which is where my bad mood started. Keep in mind that this was an intramural game - no high stakes, no trophies, no World Cup, just a bunch of kids running around chasing a soft yellow "soccer" ball in a pint-sized gym.

"Come on Hannah! Block the ball Hannah! Run Hannah! Good block Hannah! Dribble the ball Hannah, dribble the ball." And on, and on, and on. Jesus God. Really? And then when Hannah would miss-kick, "What ah ya doin' Hannah? Get on that ball Hannah!"

It's a f'ing intramural game grammaw! Half the kids playing in this game are doing so because they're not qualified to play "real" soccer. Just ask my kid, "Syd, are you good at soccer?"

"Um, no. I pretty much suck. But that's why I play intramural's. I can still play but just have fun."

And that's the way it should be.

So then I decided that I needed a change of scenery today since half of my office is disassembled upstairs and the other half is re-assembled in the basement, I've made the decision that I'll surf all the free Internet I can find in town today (meaning Panera, Border's and the library). I no sooner get to Panera and another one of these goddamn meme's is bitching because there's no light roast coffee in the urn. And as the manager comes walking out of the back with an urn in each hand she huffs and says, "Oh! So there you are. I was wondering if we were ever going to get some light roast."

It's a good thing I'm not the manager. I would have thrown the light roast right at her, hopefully drenching her ugly snowman sweatshirt and her ugly mouse-brown dye job. I mean, really, if you're going to dye your hair, at least pick a decent color.

24 Weeks and 15 Pounds

I was sitting in a client meeting yesterday with my legs crossed ever so daintily (which, btw, is no easy feat when you've got a protruding belly). I had an itch on the back of my thigh and when I rubbed my hand over it to scratch it, I actually FELT cellulite THROUGH my pants.

Seriously?!?

And while the doctor assures me that my 15 lb. weight gain over the last 24 weeks is entirely normal, I'm so grossed out by the fact that I can actually feel cellulite through my clothes that I can barely even stand it.

Here's what's interesting though. When I was pregnant with The Kid, I put on a total of 50 pounds - so right around the 24 week mark I was probably 10 pounds heavier than I am now. And I didn't care! So why am I so body conscious now?

I'm 31, feel like my boobs are becoming cow udders and my thighs are permanently soldered together. Shaving my legs has become a chore and if I stand on my feet to long, my socks leave little lined in my calves. I sleep sitting up because I have heartburn from everything I eat, whether it's a cookie or an apple.

Hi, my name is Stacie. I'm 31 and pregnant. And I fear there's no amount of therapy that will cure me.