Wah my life is so hard, wah.

I think the problem that I have with blogging - and honestly - the reason why I post so little these days, is that I feel as though it's more of a stage than a diary. I remember the days of livejournal, back when James and I would write 2-3 times a day sometimes in much the same fashion as I spam twitter nowadays. It was all stream of consciousness and it didn't matter if it didn't make THAT much sense because "it's my blog, if you don't like it don't read it".

I want this post to be a "you're not the boss of me now" style post, where I decide to post what I want because it IS my blog, but at the end of the day I'm a grown up now and my thoughts, feelings and opinions have more impact now than they ever did back then. Friends, family, loved ones who read this don't want to hear about my day to day struggles with my weight, or how INCREDIBLY CRANKY I am right now. Nobody wants to read about the mundane, in-between stuff, it's just not good blogging.

Anyway I'm not sure where I'm going with this except that I'm in a bad mood and I wish I had somewhere like I used to to express that. This is growing up.

xx. A.

Pregnant people suck [part 3294283443 of why I'm going to Hell].

Disclaimer: I think everyone sucks, pregnant people are just who pissed me off today. Apologies if that offends you.

Anyway.

Pregnant people piss me the fuck off [another reason I'm headed straight to Hell]. 

Cooking a small human inside you does not automatically make you more important than all the other big humans around you. If anything - the way I see it - it should indebt you to the big humans around you since we [the big humans] are the ones who will undoubtedly pay for your childcare reimbursements, your hospital stays and god knows what else via our taxes. When you or your kid gets sick, it's my tax money that will pay your "sick benefit" or whatever the hell it is that Centrelink recently introduced. On top of that - if you're the shitcunt that I imagine you are [and honestly I don't doubt that you are], it's my tax that will pay for EVERYTHING ELSE in your childs life since you probably wont bother to get a job, since now you have an excuse not to.

All that judgement aside, I have other legitimate [I feel] reasons to hate pregnant people. 

Last weekend I fell down and dislocated my knee + sprained my ankle [I don't believe in doing things in halves]. I had most of this week off work, but I did drag my ass in a few days because I'm a responsible motherfucker and I didn't want the people I work with to be screwed. On those days I dragged my ass in, I caught an express bus into the city and miraculously managed to get a seat. I WAS SO RELIEVED. I can barely stand and when I do it literally sends wave after wave radiating from my big toe to my hip.. it is INTENSE. 

Anyway I get two stops from where I got on and this woman who claimed to be pregnant but might have actually just been fat gets on, comes and stands infront of me and just STARES at me expectantly. I stared back for a moment, after which she raises her eyebrows and kind of.. flicks her gaze toward the aisle, you know what I mean, right? Bitch is literally DISMISSING me from 'her' seat, without saying A WORD. On top of that, I'm not even sitting in the "Priority Seating" area [aka where you're supposed to vacate for elderly, pregnant or disabled people].

I'm not even sure what to do at this point, like.. she is clearly out of line, right? I [gingerly because it FUCKING HURTS] get up and start to hobble out of the seat at which point she barges into me, shoving me onto the aisle where I almost fall down because I can't put weight on my left leg. 

I want to say that I said something or stood up for myself, and even right now I'm sitting here completely tempted to make something up about a snarky comment I made which ensured me a round of applause from the rest of the bus, but in honesty I just limped to the back of the bus and stood there, feeling blood trickle from where she'd opened some of the cuts on my knee, trying not to cry.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I fucking hate pregnant women. The sense of entitlement. The feeling that since she has so capably spread her legs and managed to procreate she is suddenly better than those of us who are not currently bearing the children of what can undoubtedly only be a toothless, rattail having, Woolworths shelf-packer who spends his days in singlet, shorts and flannies. 

Don't get me wrong all pregnant women aren't that bad, but even the pregnant women I LIKE give me the shits. Things like inviting me to a baby shower and expecting me to play stupid games that involve toilet paper, or ANY food housed in a babies nappy, or bedazzling or scrapbooking.. I mean, jesus christ, I'm getting a head ache already. 

ON TOP OF THAT. Everyone struggles to sleep! The fact that the reason you can't sleep is because your cum-fruit keeps kicking you in the rib doesn't make you any more entitled to a nap in the lunch room than me, who didn't sleep because I had some insane Mexican food last night. 

Anyway, I could keep going because GOT DAMN do I hate pregnant people, but I feel as though I'm already likely to wake up tomorrow morning to a million pregnant pension mums bearing pitchforks and screaming for my blood.

Instead, I'm going to go enjoy a nice cold vodka. Which I can do. Because there is no cum-goblin in my womb. Score!

xx. A.