Crying over a spilled vacuum

I am 21 weeks pregnant. I am moody beyond my own understanding. I am tired after the tiniest efforts. I am uncomfortable in any clothing I put on my body. I am famished at night and want nothing but McDonald's cheeseburgers and chocolate shakes (which I refrain from, but I crave them nonetheless). And, I get really, really frustrated when things aren't simple.

Like our vacuum cleaner, for example. Danny bought the vacuum cleaner when we were having fits with our old one and decided it wasn't doing its job. He picked it out on a shopping trip in which I was not involved. It is bagless, and the front is clear so that you can see all the nastiness that you have been walking around on since the last time you vacuumed. With two pets and two humans in this house, it often looks like a fur coat that just needs a little more processing to be a wearable work of...something. It's gross.

Now, for some reason, I have used the vacuum many times, but I have never had the pleasure of removing said nastiness from its clear compartment. Danny has always handled that. Until today...

Our friend, Yavontka, who is also a JAG and moved to Randlolph from Barksdale just before we did, called this afternoon to ask about borrowing our vacuum for a few days since hers was broken in the move and she hasn't yet replaced it. Definitely not a problem, especially since I had vacuumed the entire house earlier in the day and won't be doing so again for a few more days. The problem came, however, when I looked at the little monster machine and realized that I needed to dump my nastiness in order to make room for her nastiness. I thought it would be easy enough. After all, they make vacuums for women to use, right? I shouldn't need a mechanical engineering degree to dump the crud into the trash, true?

False. After fighting with the stupid thing for about five minutes (I'm telling you, the patience is at an all-time low), I decided to pick up the phone and call Danny at work. With a few choice words, I asked him how to dump the vacuum. He immediately sensed my rage which sent him into calming overdrive which sent me through the roof. I didn't need to be calmed down; I needed to dump the vacuum...NOW.

Let me set the stage: Me on the floor, still in my p.j.s at nearly 4 p.m. because I had been cleaning all day. Sweat dripping down my face, back, and in other places I don't have the nerve to mention. Hair in a knot of some sort on the back of my head. Not a drop of makeup on my face. Phone in hand with way too calm husband on the other end. Vacuum in front of me that is looking like a good target for the shooting range (or my livingroom, whichever). Panic begins to set in and nobody is helping me.

Finally, I get off the phone with the overly calm husband and begin assaulting the vacuum in a violent manner that resulted in the nastiness all over the middle of the floor. Not in the trash bag I have designated as the intended receiver. On the floor. In a gray pile of yuck.

I start to cry. Then, my crying becomes sobbing. I sit in the floor in my sweaty, stinky, psychotic state of mind for an unknown amount of time while I boo-hoo over the spilled vacuum.

So much worse than spilled milk.

I finally got it together enough to clean up the mess and successfully dump the vacuum contents into the trash bag. Once I had time to calm down (which took a hot shower and another hour and a half to accomplish), I realized that I consciously knew how certifiably insane I seemed during the entire episode, but it was like my behavior was beyond my control. I vowed to be as quiet as possible for the rest of the night. I still haven't said more than 20 words to Danny since he came home. Honestly, I am trying to protect him. The onset of female pregnancy hormones is enough to scare me, and I'm the one dealing with them in a most personal way. Poor Danny shouldn't have to be run out of his house by a nutcase mom-to-be.

Me, on the other hand, I could gladly be run out of the house and straight to the McD's right about now. I wonder if their milkshake machine is up and running at this time of night...