I’d have to say, I’ve been doing pretty good in keeping my emotions in check throughout the last 7ish months of my pregnancy. I’ve only randomly yelled at my husband a couple times and I haven’t really done any unprovoked crying either. I did shed some tears when I found out I was losing my job in the Fall, but other than that I’ve been pretty contained.
Well, until last night.
Let me start this off with saying that I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. We just moved into our new house last weekend and the place is an absolute mess right now. I’ve been diagnosed with gestational diabetes, which means I’m on a fun free diet for the next 6 weeks. I’ve also been diagnosed with cholestasis, resulting in me attending two doctor’s appointments each week from now until the end of my pregnancy. Oh yeah, and I started a new job in early December.
Part of my duties in my new position is giving presentations at various locations in DC, Rockville, Baltimore and Columbia. On presentation nights, I typically won’t get home until 9:00 pm or later – meaning that I’m working at least a 12 hour day. Since I just started this job and will be going on maternity leave in the near future, I’m trying as hard as I can to give it 110%. Even though I may be tired and achy, I refuse to complain or show any weakness in front of my boss or any of my co-workers.
Which brings us to last night.
We had a tradeshow-type of event in DC from 6:00 – 9:00 pm, so I left College Park around 5:00 in order to give myself plenty of time to get there. The trip should have taken about 30 minutes tops, but I knew from experience that it could take a bit more than that with traffic.
Sure enough, after battling my way through heaps of traffic I ended up getting to the venue at around 5:50 pm. Which wouldn’t have been a big deal if I had been able to find parking. The first garage that I turned into wasn’t actually a garage, but a loading dock. Oops. So I turned around my big ol’ SUV and tried again.
When I entered the second garage, an attendant came out to tell me it was valet only. Um…okay, that’s fine. Well, except for the fact that the garage closed at 9:00 pm. Crap. Since the event didn’t end until 9, I probably wouldn’t get back to my car until 9:15 or 9:30. So, I had to once again turn my SUV around in a super tight space so that I could exit and keep looking.
So now I’m getting a little flustered and I’m late. I hate being late. I especially hate driving around DC while I’m late.
I find a third garage and get there by following another car down this sketchy alley. The car in front of me turns into the garage and I go to follow it. However, another car is attempting to leave the garage and the pathway is so narrow that both me and the other car need to back all the way back out in order to let them leave. At this point, I see how low the ceiling is and have major doubts that my SUV will even fit in there. So, I leave and try to find yet another garage.
I’m getting a little more flustered now and the cursing is getting a bit louder and more creative. However, when I pull out of the alley it’s as if angels are singing because I can see a huge, brightly lit garage just across the street!
Unfortunately, since I’m in the middle of DC at rush hour I can’t just ram myself across the four lanes of traffic to get there. So I go on a crazy roundabout loop and finally pull into the garage around 6:30 pm. I grab a parking voucher and follow the signs down into the parking area. FINALLY!
I take a deep breath and pray to find a parking space. However, there seems to be only one space on that level and the only way I could have fit in there was if I still had my Mini. Another car goes by and up another ramp, so I follow it assuming that they are going to another parking level.
And I end up back at the entrance.
NOOOOOOooooo! At this point, I’m about ready to crack. There is no way I’m leaving this garage without finding a parking space! So, I back up and attempt to re-enter the entrance side of the garage.
At this point, the garage manager runs up to my vehicle shouting “No, no, NO”. I wind my window down to speak to him and he tells me that I need to exit the garage and then re-enter it in order to keep from potentially scratching my vehicle.
And I burst into tears.
Yes, it’s true. I turned into “that girl” and unleashed the full power of crying on this poor unsuspecting man. I think I might have wailed something like, “I just want to paaaarrrkkkk!” I honestly could not stop crying and not in a cute, sniffly way either.
This poor man felt so sorry for the crazy, crying pregnant woman that he immediately pointed me towards the special handicapped spaces and allowed me to park there for the night. He was pretty much the sweetest parking garage manager in the world to take pity on me.
I honestly didn’t know that I was that close to having some sort of emotional breakdown, much less in a DC parking garage. I have to admit, that I did feel a little bit better afterwards though. Hopefully that let just enough crazy off the top that I can keep the rest under control for the next few weeks.
I can’t really make any promises though.