Sunday the husband and I went to lunch at a local pizza place, Michaelangelos. They have an all day buffet thing and since it was like 3:00 that afternoon and I hadn't eaten anything all day (due to being out watching a band until 1:30 and then not going to bed until 3:00 that a.m.) I completely planned to throw down on my lunch.
So we get there, you start out with two huge slices. We went to sit in a booth. Well, the hubby sat down fine. I on the other hand had to squish myself into the booth. The baby belly did not fit. I could not breathe. Therefore, I could not eat. I finished one and a half slices of pizza before I had to leave. I left the hubby there to eat while I wandered down to another store a few doors down and bee-lined it to the bathroom where I completely lost my mind and cried and rocked and cried some more.
Why did I have this reaction? Maybe because of hormones. Maybe because I was still starving. Maybe because I couldn't fit into the booth and they didn't offer any other type of seating. Perhaps because I'm already not exactly feeling my best or most attractive or most confident and then I can't even eat in a restaurant because I literally don't fit in their seating. Way to kick a pregnant lady when she's already swollen and feeling like a Weeble. I just know that being unable to eat because you can't breathe and at the same time you're probably cutting off the circulation to your nugget too does not make for a good day.
Then yesterday I find out Michael Clark Duncan died. WTF universe, seriously? You take away Hollywood's teddy bear? John Coffey (like the drink but spelled different). Bear from the best asteroid movie ever. Sad. He always seemed like such a nice guy. And thanks to the Green Mile, I know he has the ability to make me ugly cry in public. After that movie whenever I saw him I was always close to crying. I mean, not many actors can just make me crumble into a sobbing pile of snot as well as Michael Clark Duncan could.
|You can't look at that man and not smile.|