Where Are My Keys And Why Am I Crying?

i was out at the store on my lunch break yesterday. as i prepared to head back to work, i couldn't find my keys in my oversized purse. standing in the hot parking lot by my car in the glaring sun with my arms full of bags, i dug through my belongings frantically as i began to bake in the natural convection oven created by the summer heat bouncing off the cement. minute after minute passed, feeling like hours while my clothing steadily began to dampen with sweat and stick to me. i began dropping bags and removing belongings as the not-so tiny life inside of my belly began to kick my bladder in excitement... then, i found them! ...in my pocket. somehow, i hadn't noticed the large, jingling bulge at my expanding hip.

as i got into my hot car and rolled the windows down, my eyes filled with tears; i have no idea why. i only had a moment to contemplate the salty droplets rolling down my cheeks, though, as the baby's kick-boxing session had pushed my urge to urinate past the point of no return. i rushed back to work, lugged myself up the long flight of stairs and half-ran to the bathroom.

ah, pregnancy...