I was going through the checkout at the grocery store earlier tonight, when the clerk picked up my two packages of... feminine products, and asked, "Did it come early?"
"Are you early? Or," she leans in, "are you late?"
"What? No! I'm a little early, I think..."
"Oh, that's good. At least you're not late."
And I had to think about it. "It" had come as a surprise to me yesterday, and I wasn't really prepared because I wasn't expecting it. I mean, I'd had some cramps over the weekend, but I get those anywhere up to two weeks before the main event. I hadn't been tired a lot, I hadn't been a cranky bitch, and I hadn't been craving Snickers Bars like a fiend. But then I though about it...
I'd been really mellow last week, but I chalked it up to a really good vacation. I was actually cheerful and pleasant at curling last night. The Snickers Bar craving is usually my strongest indicator to start getting ready, but I hadn't experienced any pangs yet. But I know who's responsible for the suppression of those pangs.
Damn you, chocolate truffles brought to the office by one of our deliverypersons! Damn your rich dark chocolate and light dusting of cocoa! Damn the fact that you were so sweet and melty that any thoughts of the sub-par chocolate bar chocolate was pushed aside like the skinny kid in front of the dessert buffet trying to ward off a hoard of dieters! Damn you for making me - nay, forcing me! - to eat so many one day that my tummy hurt! (It was like, five in one afternoon. Damn, those things are powerful!)
All of a sudden, I feel like being cranky. Excuse me while I go ride the elevator looking for someone to snap at in order to get it out of my system.