D'oh!

so, I had a triple FML moment yesterday. It was mortifying...

O's in KY this weekend so when I got off of work I decided the perfect evening would consist of mexican takeout and sappy pregnancy movies. I ordered the food from Garcia's (combination #4, the only thing I ever order) and then on a whim decided to get an horchata. I've been really good about controlling my sugars so I saw it as sort of a "treat." Then I walked over to Blockbuster to get the movie. While there I realized I didn't have my wallet, but luckily they let me rent anyway and so I got Away We Go (totally awesome, by the way. I cried for pretty much the duration of the movie). Anyway, as I'm walking down lawrence avenue I'm juggling the takeout bag, the blockbuster bag, my purse, and the ginormous horchata. Trying to figure out where I left my wallet I'm raising my left arm (which contains previously mentioned gargantuan horchata) and digging in my purse which is on my left shoulder. It's a definite juggling act.

I then realize where I left my wallet. Near the computer at work. (first FML moment)

Then I realize that I printed out some prenatal release forms to take pregnancy aerobics at my gym-- AND LEFT THEM ON THE PRINTER!! (second FML moment)

I'm so stunned to realize that I basically just "outted" my pregnancy to my boss that I inadvertantly flex my hands and my thumb goes through the styrofoam cup that I'm still holding above my head and which contains about a gallon of sugary rice milk. I am now SOAKED. annnnnnnd of course most of the drink gushes directly into my leather Coach purse. (third FML moment- it's a doozie, i know)

As I'm trying to shake and wipe some of the liquid off myself and save some of the papers and the book in my very expensive purse, I start wiping at my midsection and then realize that I've been walking around with my fly down this entire afternoon. (quadruple whammy FML moment)

So there I am, walking down lawrence covered in rice milk, carrying a big takeout bag and a ruined purse and a blockbuster bag. I feel basically like the fattest most pathetic person on the planet- I feel the irrational urge to tell people on the street "I don't normally eat mexican food and watch movies alone on friday night! My husband's out of town and I'm pregnant!" I'm basically mortified. It gets worse.

my "crush" our neighbor (who's also happily married like me, so don't worry it's totally innocent) is standing out in front of our building talking to our downstairs neighbor and here I am looking like the lamest lame that ever lamed....

FML. seriously. fuck my life indeed.