Working with men - or someone named Joyce

And here is that crappiest part about working with a bunch of men - you cannot keep ice cream treats in the freezer. It is 2:03pm on a Friday afternoon, 4.5 weeks before my due date, and I am ready to go on maternity leave - NOW. Or at least shorten my days - because it can't be a good sign when I want to cry over stolen ice cream.

OK, I sound unreasonable here, but this is the second time my ice cream has been consumed by someone else. And it was the LAST ONE. Had I known it was gone, I could have purchased more.

And dang it - I am hot, tired, and feel like I have arthritis- and those mixed together already make for a person that doesn't want to be too terribly social. Add to that my afternoon snack disappointment and you have the reason pregnant women are stereotyped to be so cranky toward the end.

I am cranking up the A/C and freezing them out. They have it coming.

P.S. - I considered the possibility that I ate the last Skinny Cow Sandwich. However, after raking my brain and writing down how many I ate on each day...there should have been one left for today. And I would remember throwing out the carton (wouldn't I??).