So, this morning I could not sleep. No problem, I thought, I'll just get up (it was 5am), eat (I am starving often lately), futz around until I'm tired, and sleep in the late morning. And it was all going according to plan, with me dozing off around 8:30 for a few more, much needed, hours of rest.

Then my landlord calls, at 8:55, reminding me that it's street-sweeping day and that my car is on the wrong side of the street.

Grumbling, I get up, move the car to the other side, which is 2 hour parking during the day, annoyed that I will have to go out and move it at 11 so as not to get a ticket on that side. Then I notice that street sweeping is until NOON, not 11, so there's an hour where I have no place to park the car.

I did not get back to sleep this morning.

So, trying to make the best of it, I head out just before 11 for a late breakfast at Mama's, with a shopping list in hand for after. I'm still upset about the street sweeping thing, mostly because I'm too tired to think straight. Breakfast was less than pleasant, as they sat me in the middle of the room, right next to a table that had one too many people at it so that everytime someone walked past, they knocked into my table trying to avoid the very large dude sitting in the aisle, sloshing hot coffee or water out of my cups half the time. Not restful or pleasant at all, and I had a hard time not just breaking down crying (thanks, hormones).

So, I go to the Safeway after breakfast. It's hot today -- 75 degrees and bright and sunny, and I'm very pregnant so I feel hot even when it's chilly outside, so let's just say I can't wait to get inside and stand in the frozen foods aisle. And, as I'm making a mad dash to grab a cart, a charity panhandler stands in my way.

"Excuse me, miss..."

"Too tired for whatever it is. Sorry."

I wasn't super nice, but I wasn't that mean at this point either.

"Oh-ho! I'll bet if it was YOUR house blah blah..."

"Dude, I said no, get outta my way."

"But if YOUR home blah blah..."

"I am nine months pregnant. I do NOT feel like standing in the hot sun talking to you. Move it."

He looks offended. "You CHOSE to get pregnant, I didn't!"

"Oh yeah? Well, you CHOSE to stand out in the hot sun harrassing people, I didn't! Move or I'll get the manager to move you for me."

...

Normally, I'd feel bad. Dude has a shitty job. But he was physically blocking my way, arguing with me, and, honestly, he gave me such a good opening, he was asking for it. I fuckin' hate charity panhandlers.

Am I a bad person because taking my mood out on him a little bit totally brightened my day? I don't care if I am, I'm just wondering.