The week from hell

So last week sucked.

Hadn't written in awhile. BF and I came to terms on the Aruba thing. He was simply being frugal about calling from down there on Monday, and I did end up picking him up from the airport.

But last week - ugh - what a bad week.

I was hormonal. Me and the BF were fighting again, over some imaginary injustice I invented in my head due to the hormonal swings I was experiencing. (Side note - this seems to be getting worse and there are hot flashes now. So I suspect early menopause...not fun.) Telling this just to lay the groundwork.

I was, essentially, feeling very sorry for myself. I felt old, and could hear my biological clock TICK TICK TICKING so loud last week that it kept me awake at night. Well, the ticking and the hot flashes.

So I am at my daughter's school for open house. It's been a shitty sleepless night. I don't wear makeup. I'm wearing a tank top and a little sweater that ties under my rack. The tank doesn't do a good job covering up the new girls. I look like crap, basically, but don't care b/c this is just about getting my daughter comfortable with her new school.

Mistake mistake mistake.

I run into someone I haven't seen in over a year and half. PTA perfect stay at home mom. Runs every morning after walking her kids to school. She thinks I have gotten married. And she asks if I am pregnant.

WOW.

WOW.

Wow.

I guess I HAVE gained weight. Its only like 7 pounds but coupled with the new boobs I guess I look bad.

WOW.

I say no, I am not. And I proceed to say - no I never got married and no I am no longer engaged either.

I want to say I'm just a lame ass big breasted slightly chubby single mom here to meet the teacher. But I don't. I just smile and say something lame like, I'll call you.

Just writing about it now seems shocking. Someone thought I was pregnant. Wow.

I go home and smoke like 5 cigarettes and cry a lot.

And just when I thought it couldn't get worse...

My friend sends me a copy of the Forbes article on "Why you shouldn't marry a career woman". They define career woman as university educated and makes more than 30K per year. I guess I am an uber-career woman at this point.

Apparently I don't keep a clean house. I am more apt to cheat or find someone better than my mate. (This is true, but the same could be said about men!) My mate will be unhappy b/c I potentially could make more.

This is the nail in my coffin. I should just give up on the idea of marital bliss and commitment to my BF and accept singledom as it is inevitable.

I think of the line in the movie Singles. Be Happy- Stay Single!

By Friday I was thinking, ah fuck it all. Nothing I can do about this but exercise and diet and hope for the best on all fronts. If it works out with the BF, fine. If it doesn't, fine but I better get my ass back down to fighting weight and into my size 27 Paper Denim and Cloth that are just a bit too tight right now.

I began exercising in earnest after this past week. I need to lose like 15 pounds. Determined that the next time I run into this woman there is no way she will think I am pregnant. I'd rather her think I was silly and superficial enough to spend a good chunk of disposable income on new boobs than for her to think I am just fat.