I had my first craving today in the midst of a somewhat hellish day. I awoke way too early, feeling very short of breath. I am almost certain the breathlessness was a by-product of having to go into work yesterday (while my beautiful friend Laura obligingly babysat in spite of the fact that she has her own little one - I figured it'd be good birth control for her!) and having a tour of the new office building that our company will be moving into shortly. As soon as I stepped into the construction zone (complete with lovely hardhat and gorgeous steel-toed gumboots), I started panicking. All I could smell was the very strong odor of some sort of glue and my brain frantically tried to alert me with little thoughts like "glue smell, glue smell - the embryo!" There did not seem to be a lot of noticeable dust in the air but I know it was there (drywall dust is one of the finest dusts there is, and by that I don't mean good!) and was most likely why I was wheezing up a storm all night. I had to get up once for Ventolin and then had to take it again first thing in the morning, thereby rendering me a jangled, shaking and irritable mess. During my last pregnancy I had discussed with my doctor the benefits/hazards of asthma drugs and we both agreed that the benefit outweighs the risk. I don't breathe, baby doesn't breathe - plain and simple.
I had zero motivation for anything, but managed to make pancakes for breakfast after I had half promised. But not chocolate chip ones as was suggested, that's just gross! Even I, the sugar-holic, can't tolerate that kind of sweet first thing in the morning! In spite of my apparent lack of drive, I had made plans to grocery shop as the last week at home showed a dismal lack of anything edible for an at-home, pregnant woman. I watched the movie Gattaca as it was rented and I had never seen it. During one of the extras, I found myself crying. If you go to the Special Features on the DVD and watch the "Lost Scene" called "Coda", you'll observe there is absolutely no reason to cry over this scene as there is not any acting in it. Unless of course, you are me.
My husband asked if I could go and pick up the new counter-top for our upstairs bathroom which was renovated back in December '03 and has been sinkless for this entire time. I was less than enthused about the idea as I knew my energy reserves were low, but what could I say? My husband could sense my irritation and chose to be a jackass, but then again he's a Virgo and they are prone to pouting and sulking it would seem. On the way to the Italian tile place I couldn't help but notice my ex-husband in the car behind me. I knew he had come here with his new wife from Australia for a visit back in July, but it looks like he stayed. My stomach was heaving by the time I got to where I was going. Once arrived I was informed that the deal had been made for cash and I did not have $175 ready cash on me. The baby (yes, I am the only person who takes her out anywhere, god forbid her dad ever do it) had fallen asleep and this presented me with the problem of trying to get cash. I drove off in tears from the tile place, searched for a bank machine, found one, woke the baby, grabbed the stupid cash, went back, paid for the granite slab, humoured the grumpy old Italian guy and headed off to the grocery store which was, incidentally, nowhere near this place!
Shopping went reasonably well, the store was a little crowded but not crazy-ass like it usually is. Kes insisted that we go over to the "fishies" and here's where my dog nose kicked in. Now, on any given non-pregnant day, I have the nose of a bloodhound. I can smell anything sweet, stinky, bitter, acrid, perfumy, etc. from ten paces away. I can smell the smoke on my husband's breath without even being close to him (he thinks I don't know....), I can smell body odor from one end of the bus to the other. I can locate the smell of pot from a huge distance. This could have been a gift I suppose if there were any kind of job that you could make good money at by sniffing. Actually, I have to backtrack here. Before I got to the disgusting fish smelling area of the store, I had picked up some Febreeze promotional item that had a scratch and sniff on it. I scratched. I sniffed. My stomach did a complete flip over in revolt. It smelled like old lady toilet spray. Gross. Add to that, fish smell from a combined population of fish, mussels, clams, lobsters and crabs and well, I hurriedly explained to Kes that we had more shopping to do.
Then it happened. I got to the pickle aisle. Immediately my interest was piqued. I looked at the gherkins. I looked at the sweet pickles. Then I saw the "Sweet Mixed Pickles" and I was lost. After looking through several of the glass jars to ensure there was an adequate supply of cauliflower contained within, I selected one and completed my shopping, dreaming of the sweet vinagery taste to come.
Once out at the car, I packed the groceries in the trunk and located the jar of pickles. Oh sweet pickley goodness! Oh Lord, I can't get the lid off! Ohmigod, Ohmigod, Omigod - I must have pickled cauliflower NOW! Thank goodness for Granny's turn it upside down and bang it flat on a firm surface trick. The trunk bottom sufficed and I got the jar open. I inhaled several pickle pieces, but anxious to get home, restrained myself and finished eating a quarter of the jar when I got there. Chaser of milk and a peanut butter and banana sandwich and all is well! When's dinner?
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