Crappy Morning

How's your morning going? If it's going well, you might not want to read this post. While I'm aware that nothing that happened this morning was actually horrible, it all added up to a horrible morning for me, possibly only because I'm pregnant and hormonal.

What happened between my last blog post and now? Well, the first thing was the interview being canceled until after Christmas, when I might not be able to make it because I will likely either be in the hospital or recovering from child birth.

Then, I had to go out to Michael's mom's house because he wanted me to put FRAGILE stickers on the camcorder we just sold on eBay for shipping. Well...on the box...but anyway, that meant I had to deal with his mother's inane conversation on her usual topics of my pregnancy and her 'schedule'. Yeah, she doesn't work. She doesn't have kids at home. She doesn't have a frickin schedule, and I'm really tired of hearing about how much stuff she has to do.

Then I went and shipped the stupid camcorder, and the shipping cost three times as much as Michael decided to charge the buyer. We sold a $600 camcorder for $135, and lost $16 on the shipping. All because he wouldn't listen to me about the shipping charges. I am really okay with selling the camcorder for whatever we could get for it (within reason, which I felt $135 for a three-year-old used camcorder was). But losing money on the shipping because he wouldn't listen to advice from his WIFE? Not reasonable. Not even close to reasonable.

THEN, I got home and found myself locked out of the house. I keep my keys in my purse. Michael used them last night to lock the door and didn't put them back. I thought they were in my purse, when in fact, they were on the dryer. So, who comes to my rescue? Not Michael, because he's at work and on his way out of town. Michael's mom! YAY! I get to see and have to converse with Michael's mom twice in the space of an hour because he insists that she have a key to the house.

And THEN?!?! Instead of getting out of her car and handing me the keys to MY OWN HOUSE, or better yet staying in the car and handing me the keys, she got out of the car, marched up to MY door, and proceeded to unlock MY house. Then, she opens the door really slowly, because she simply assumes that I'm irresponsible enough to have left Harley out and she doesn't want him to get out. Except that I'm not. And her son is the irresponsible one, because if he had put MY keys back where they belonged, I wouldn't have been locked out of the house.

God forbid, though, that she let go of 'her' keys for two seconds and show me the respect I deserve. But, obviously, in her eyes I'm still a child, just like she sees her son, no matter how much she pretends to respect me. And if we take 'her' keys from her for any reason, the last thing she says is always "Make sure you get those back to me!"

Because, apparently, she has a right to have keys to our house. NOT! But Michael doesn't want to argue it with her, and he wants her to feel useful, and he wants her to have them in case of emergencies. Like this one. Except that he caused the emergency, and I would rather have driven to get his keys from him even though he was about 30 minutes away.

And now? Michael just called and he wants me to call his father at work. I JUST WILL NOT! I hate this place, and I hate Michael's interfering family who won't just leave us alone!

*We apologize, this special post has been interrupted so the pregnant blogger can have a major temper tantrum. She likely will not return today.*