Paranoia

My husband thinks that I am becoming paranoid. I guess I have to admit that, since getting impregnated, I might be seeing slights and undermining where there actually are none. Annoying chick (in all fairness, she annoyed me before pregnancy) is probably not trying to snatch baby strollers out from under me. Stapler-stealing co-worker might actually be clueless and just need a stapler--not neccesarily my precious stapler. That driver in front of me probably did not wake up this morning and say, "You know, today would be a good day to pull out in front of someone, drive 20mph and not use my turn signal."

But by golly, it sure feels like it! It just goes to show that as hard as you try to become a harmonious, calm, Zen-like peacemaker, all it takes is a handful of surging hormones to send you wallowing on your couch at night, cursing the Romanians for being so obnoxiously perfect on the uneven parallel bars.