Sorry again about the infrequent updates, but I've been really sick.
Nausea, light headedness, irritability, changes in appetite...
The kicker came Tuesday, when I was getting dressed for work.
Wriggling into my pantyhose has never been such a chore. And they squeezed my stomach in so much it almost hurt.
I thought for a second that I had bought a size too small, or grabbed a pair of control top pantyhose by mistake.
No such luck.
Once I realized that my skirt was fitting tight and that my blouse wouldn't button all the way down, I realized my clothes weren't the problem. My belly was.
Oh my God, I thought, what if I'm pregnant?
Given the timing of it, the only real candidate would've been Turbo. The greasy biker from the In-N'-Out parking lot.
That was too horrid a thing to even consider.
God, I don't know how I'd handle it if I found out I was carrying Turbo Jr.
At first I didn't even think I had Turbo's number, but then I noticed he'd scratched it into the door of my car. Classy, classy guy.
And even though I'm staunchly pro-choice and Turbo is a living argument for Roe v Wade, I'm also a lifelong Catholic girl weaned on copious amounts of guilt and shame.
So I don't know what the hell I'd do if I really was pregnant.
I told Suki about it and she got all excited. Which was the last thing I needed.
There are times when you need your friends to be happy for you and there are times when you need them to be miserable for you. This was one of the latter.
At lunch, I grabbed Suki and made a mad dash to the nearest drug store to pick up a home pregnancy test. Then we made a mad dash back to the office so I could run to the restroom and see what the story was.
Wriggling out of my pantyhose proved even more problematic than wriggling into them had been. The waistband had formed an airtight seal against my belly.
I was vacuum-packed!
The only thing left to do was--and there's no way to put this delicately--pee on a stick.
Unfortunately, all my pent-up anxiety was making it almost impossible to go.
I ended up having to turn on all the faucets in the restroom, just so the sound of all that rushing water would "put me in the mood."
That didn't work, because all the faucets are those hand-activated ones like you see in the movie theaters. They only turn on for a few seconds and then automatically stop.
I exhausted myself half to death running around and waving my hand in front of each faucet and then doing it all over again just to keep them all going.
Finally, with the clock ticking and scant seconds to spare before the end of my lunch break, the floodgates let loose. For some reason, thinking about the Loch Ness Monster is what did the trick.
I quickly did what I had to do, but then I realized I still had to wait two minutes for the results!
What were the results?
I'm still not sure!
The indicator was supposed to show a plus sign if I was pregnant and a minus sign if I wasn't.
It didn't show either!
What it did show looked like something halfway between a plus and minus sign. Sort of a short, squat capital T.
Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, the restroom door burst open and there was the Alien Queen. Eyeballing me and the pregnancy test in my hand.
She didn't write me up for being late back from lunch, but there was an extra layer of weirdness between us the rest of the day.
And I didn't even know what to tell Suki.
All I know is I'm still feeling dizzy, nauseous and fat.
Whether that's due to an expanding fetus or an addiction to street vendor burritos remains to be seen...
Love you! See you all soon!
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