So…now that I’m reaching the end of my first trimester, I’ve been doing a little reflecting. There have been many surprises thus far, some more pleasant than others, and I’m quite sure that there will be plenty more to come. One thing that I’m not sure I was expecting was the extreme nature of pretty much everything that has happened. There don’t seem to be many happy mediums here lately. For instance, I am either completely repulsed by even the THOUGHT of any type of food, or I’m so ravenous I begin to fear for the integrity of my limbs. If I’m not so exhausted that I can hardly speak, I’m so wired that I’m up half the night.
My emotions vacillate from laughter to tears with much the same fury. Just last week, my neighbor’s ridiculous music interrupted my deep and much-needed slumber. I stormed out the front door, clad in my Christmas PJs, hair looking like something out of a Nick Nolte mug-shot and spotted the stupid teenagers in their stupid driveway with their stupid, loud car stereo. I was pissed to the point of shaking, and began screaming at the top of my lungs something about how people were trying to sleep. No, the irony does not escape me. (I console myself with the righteous belief that I, at least, disturbed the peace with the best of intentions.) And no, I couldn’t give less of a crap that those idiots were looking at me, wide-eyed, like I was from outer space, or that they undoubtedly had quite a laugh at my expense later. I guess my point here is that my reaction was probably somewhere just short of completely rational. I retreated back to my bed, and naturally, couldn’t get back to sleep. I turned on the Investigation Discovery channel, and in literally 15 minutes, I was moved to tears by some woman talking about her missing friend. Tears of the boo-hooing variety. Yes. I may, in fact, be completely insane.
Cravings are pretty intense, too. Most of the time, you can ask me what I want to eat, and I can’t come up with a single thing that doesn’t make my stomach turn. And then occasionally, I begin to crave something extremely specific, and with a passion that still sometimes surprises me. When, like last week, I crave something completely unattainable, this can be a real pain in the rear. I haven’t had a Four Cheese & Tomato Panini from Fazoli’s in at least 4 years. And suddenly, it’s all I can think about. But with 60 miles and a state line between me and the nearest Fazoli’s, it’s just not going to happen. That was not a good day. But I think days like today more than make up for it. I woke up from a dream in which I was enjoying some Rally’s fries. I tried to forget about it, because I thought Rally’s was no more. But I couldn’t get it out of my head. So I looked online and found a Checkers not too far away. I am embarrassed to admit how much I enjoyed those fries. I don’t think any one thing since childhood has brought me the level of joy and contentment that satisfying some of these cravings has. I guess the volatile nature of my existence lately has its perks after all.
