In general, I love being pregnant. So much so that other women kind of hate me. While many friends are enduring trials of vomiting and piles and migraines, I'm...well...not. I have no explanation for it, other than one of my great-grandmothers had more than a dozen children in her lifetime and lived to tell the tale. Even that is tenuous, given that one of the other great-grandmothers had only one child. What can I say? There has to be some compensation for having had birthing hips for 20 years before I did any actual birthing.
Still, even with my pregnancy love, there are occasional moments of bad. Like today, when I was set to interview the CEO and founder of one of the area's most important companies. I was led up the stairs to his office, but what the PR person had failed to tell me was that there were three flights of stairs and no compensating long hall to catch my breath once at the top. So I arrived in his office not visibly pregnant (due to the coat still being on) but winded like a three-pack-a-day smoker. Very impressive first, uh, impression. That was compounded when, just seconds into the interview, I was trying to have a deep, calming breath to cut down on the panting and choked on my own spittle. Nothing worse than having a coughing fit that you are trying not to have. And it's all caught on my digital audio recorder! Awesome! If you're nice, maybe I'll post it sometime. The world needs more audio files of me embarrassing myself in front of important business leaders.
This was all shortly followed by my (1) getting lost on the way to interview number three, which was held at an office I have been to before and (2) losing control of the car alarm while inside the car and having to endure the curious stares of the Main Street lunch crowd wondering if I was trying to steal my own car.
Can I blame those last two on pregnancy?