I need a time out.
I think it hit me about the time I dropped a Tupperware filled with sliced red peppers and then preceded to repeatedly slam the vessel to the floor that once held them.
Oh...and I was yelling.
I yelled as I picked the pathetic little things up off of our dirty linoleum, yelled as I stomped my way over to the trashcan, and then gave an encore worthy UGH!! as I shoved them into the layers of smelly garbage.
Wanna know why?
I spent the previous forty-five minutes convincing myself to get off the couch with the promise I could scavenge
I just love being pregnant.
No, no. Let me rephrase.
I just LOVE being pregnant with food allergies. Only a pregnant lady who can't eat eggs, wheat, or dairy would let the loss of a container of plain-jane red peppers send her into this much of a tizzy-fit.
I'm sure the "Armageddon" episodes on the History Channel and "Death of a Cheerleader" on ABC Family combined with Bravo's "Pregnant in Heels" had absolutely nothing to do with it.
My poor husband...