It was a regular, everyday moment that shook a little perspective into me. I haven't exactly been shy with my pregnancy whining. Well shame on me.
Today was my final day in the city until I return from maternity leave. Of course I had to make the standard trip to Noah's Bagels to get my fix. Sesame bagel with cream cheese and a large decaf coffee. Yum. I prepared my coffee as I waited for my order to be called. I heard my name and walked to the counter to retrieve my breakfast. I was handed my bagel by a friendly woman with an apron tied tightly across her swollen belly. She looked to be about eight or nine months along, just like me.
I felt suddenly sheepish as I tucked my bagel into my ergonomically designed backpack and left the restaurant. I had been feeling sorry for myself, having forgotten my umbrella and needing to walk a half mile to the office in a cold drizzle. I started to think about how my server's day must have started out. The morning shift. She probably had to start work at 6am, meaning getting her tired aching body out of bed at an ungodly hour. Likely she had some sort of bus/train/walk commute, only to arrive at Noah's where she would spend an eight hour shift on her feet, preparing other people's food.
So what do I have to complain about?
Exactly. Shame on me.