Just what exactly lead me to sobbing, nearly uncontrollably at Pete's at 7:30 last night? You won't believe this, or then again maybe it makes perfect sense.
The cause of the breakdown....Bridesmaids, the movie. A date night gone wrong.
I cannot for the life of me see this movie. Everyone, and I mean everyone continues to rave about this funny flick, and although I have had several opportunities to see what all the fuss is about, I can't seem to make it happen.
Bridesmaids take 1:
I had a phenomenal afternoon planned. I was to go for manis/pedis with a girlfriend followed by a couples night at the movies. We had a babysitter arranged. Then I thought I was in labor. I experienced cramping and felt sick. I cancelled my plans and stayed home. It turns out that the pain is just a result of the baby's position, and it is has continued on for the past seven days.
Bridesmaids take 2
I finished work on Thursday at 12:30. I was taking a 1/2 day of vacation and starting my maternity leave then. What better way to kick it off than an afternoon at the movies? Feeling very tired, I decided to lie down for 20 minutes before heading to the theater. An hour and a half later I awoke groggy and disoriented. I had missed the film.
Bridesmaids take 3
My in laws are now in town, having arrived in Oakland a week before my c-section, in case of an early delivery that now does not seem to be likely. The husband and I rushed out for a quick dinner and then finally to see Bridesmaids. We hurried through our meal and headed to the theater only to find a line several blocks long. Within minutes we were informed that Bridesmaids was sold out. The other movie options included Kung Phu Panda II or The Hangover Part II. I had no interest in either. That is when the tears came. My husband asked what we should do next? Head to a bar? No. I can't drink. Lame. Go for coffee? Fine. Just Fine. We walked to Pete's and I started crying harder and harder. Our evening was ruined. I would never see the funniest movie in the world. I had to head back and share my living room with the in laws watching Golf on ESPN or PBS again. Another long boring night.
I ordered a grande white chocolate mocha from the barrista who quickly corrected me. "I'm sorry but what do you mean by a grande?" she snarled sarcastically. That's right I'm at Pete's, not Starbucks. Pete's has medium. Dumb me. I leaned into my husband my shoulders shaking as I sobbed. They both must have thought I was crazy.
Clearly as tragic is as it is that I have missed my opportunity to see the movie on the big screen, it was not worthy of all those tears. Not by a long shot, but I suppose I have hit my limit.
Tired of waiting.
As noted, I am now sharing my home with my in laws who will be here until June 14. We are thankful for the help. It is so kind of them to come. But I don't feel like having roommates. Roommates with questions about where to find this or that. Roommates who want to know what we will do for dinner. Roommates who talk to me while I'm trying to blog. Roommates who monopolize the television when all I want to do is watch The Real Housewives.
Although I know all of this is temporary, and leading up to a joyful occasion, I feel as though I am in the perfect storm. Ready to explode. Wanting to find a hideout, an escape yet too tired to move.