"The bitch is back."

Good news! The sciatic nerve pain is gone. Or it appears to be (let's keep our fingers crossed, shall we?) And since my work week was only 4 days long due to that sick day I took, it was almost bearable. And my 'morning' sickness seems to be quickly disappearing. In short, I'm just about back to my old self, which means that I am happily bitchy.

Case in point, the people on my floor at work decided to have an 'irish potluck' in honor of St. Patrick's day. In general, I'm not super social to begin with and I hate socializing with people at work. The women in my immediate office I can handle (they are pretty cool and I know them well enough to trust any food that they would bring in) but the people in other offices on the floor are too much. There's the smelly guy we all refer to as "the knome," and the gaggle of gossiping grannies and some others that are nice enough but just a little vacant. Of course there are some 'normals' but they are generally smart enough to avoid the potlucks too :-).

Plus, ever since they found out that I am pregnant, they have all been harpooning me with unsolicited assvice which frankly, makes me want to rip off their heads and stomp on them. So, needless to say, I skipped the potluck. Because of this, all afternoon, I've had to endure "where were you"'s and "did you get something to eat"'s and "you're eating for two now!", and I want so badly just to mess with them ("well, i don't trust your cooking," or "actually, my baby already hates you"...you know, that kind of thing) but I've held my tongue and stuck to my story of wanting to have lunch with my husband. Which, you know, is sort of true.

I know, I know. I could have alot worse problems than co-workers that like to get together and socialize. And give well-meant assvice. And I am mean and rude and ungrateful and blah blah blah. At least I have a sexy ass. And that should count for something.