I've read that pregnant women have a tendency to go psycho at times due to hormonal overload, but I'm proud to say I've been really good about keeping my raging urges at bay. There have been, however, a few select incidences where "Psycho Sarah" has surfaced.
Her first appearance, and probably the most scariest, was during my first trimester when Randy got me a chicken burrito from Chipolte instead of a steak one. A lot of my anger stemmed from the fact I told him what I wanted and he was like "I know what my baby wants." And mind you, we go to Chipolte a lot and I always get the same thing. My theory is that he was too worried about making sure he got the right meat-to-rice ratio on his burrito and failed to pay attention while my order was being made. I'm hoping Randy will share this incident with you because his take on the situation is pretty funny, even though I scared the bejesus out of him at the time, as well as poor Uncle Bryan who played witness.
The evil Honda in MY parking space.
Today, "Psycho Sarah" showed up again, only silently as there was no lashing out because it could have involved me getting fired for punching a new co-worker. A new employee joined our staff last week and he is a really nice guy. However, this week he started parking in MY parking space ... the spot I have been parking at for the past year and a half. Even my co-worker friend made the comment earlier in the week someone was in my spot. So see ... it is a known fact that this is MY spot.
Well, this morning I vowed to reclaim my spot by getting to work 20 minutes early, which is a difficult task in itself because mornings in general are tough for me, but even tougher being pregnant. However, I powered through my morning sickness and scraped the frost off my windows at warped speed just to get MY parking spot.
So, what did I see when I pulled into the parking lot this morning? Oh, yeah. He was already there and in MY spot when there were maybe three other cars in the entire parking lot. I literally exclaimed "Mother Fu@K" while pulling in. I immediately had to call Randy and tell him my early morning plan had failed, saying "Fu@k" at least three times in a 10-word sentence.
I walked into my office and went straight to my desk without saying any "good mornings" for fear I might get crazy on my poor new co-worker. I managed to calm down by sharing my frustration with a co-worker via email (making her laugh) and then writing this blog post. But don't you worry, I am not giving up. I plan to get to work even earlier tomorrow to mark MY territory.