Portrait of a Grumpy Pregnant Lady

I'm deep in the third trimester, I can tell. I spend much of my day feeling annoyed for no particular reason. Oh, I find reasons - the mail being late, clothes left on the floor, no healthy snacks in the house (because I ate them already), rain on the carpet of leaves outside, the dog breathing too loudly. Truth is, I'd be annoyed even if I didn't have to stand sideways to empty the dryer (for example). It's just that point in pregnancy - one I've reached three times before.

The difficulty now is that, when I'm grumpy (which is always), I feel pretty d@rn justified. So if the lady in a hurry in the parking lot speeds through the crosswalk because she doesn't want to wait for the Waddling Wonder and her three kids, well, I might do something a bit rash - say something unpleasant to her closed window. You know, something effective and mature.

My task over the next 5 weeks and two-ish days is to avoid ruining all my relationships. My thoughts go something like: no, don't tell the librarian she's a soulless bureaucrat out to exercise her artificial power to mask her own sense of inadequacy, so what if that guy ahead in line walked faster, Dr. D has only one more trip scheduled before baby - no need to rub in (again) that he'll be missing St. Nick's first band concert.

And wouldn't you know, while writing this the dismal rain quit, the sun emerged, and a ferocious wind is picking up - perfect for drying those unraked leaves. See? Does it really matter that some little vermin is munching away in the wall beside my desk? Does it? Ok, put the sledge hammer down ....