Attempts at misery

Attempt number one. 

(At making people cry. Cuz why not??) 

The anxiety was getting to her. The first sip of coffee had scalded her tongue. Her tights had ripped when she'd tried to pull them on because nothing fit her anymore. She couldn't find her ring, for some reason which worried her to death. She'd also managed to drop her keys twice and had had to execute a complex maneuver to retrieve them. Once from under the tiny space between the refrigerator and the kitchen counter, which had been like trying to fit through a keyhole. 

The door to their apartment had gotten jammed, right when she had been rushing out of the house. More like waddling out of the house, since rushing out was for people who could walk properly.

For people who were capable of fitting into their workclothes without losing their breath. For people who weren't carrying around a half-grown human attached to their belly. 

The elevator had gotten stuck right before reaching the lobby and of all the people she could've run into, she was stuck in a closed place, with the creepy dude from 105,who always gave her a onceover even after her belly had started showing the obvious signs. 

Maybe he'd looked more interested since she'd visibly started showing the symptoms. The thought made her shudder with disgust and she looked away.

It was the middle of summer,  and the heat wasn't being very generous to her. It was already hot enough to make her sweat in buckets and growing a human inside her was making it worse. 

She cursed herself. She cursed at the weather and at her decisions. Of course she'd thought that she could manage this. She'd been so sure about it. 

She was a strong, independent woman. She could manage hectic, corporate work and reproduction. She had managed to graduate at the top of her class in university and gotten a job right after school without too much effort. If she could manage that,  she believed that she could manage anything. It was only later, way past the first trimester did she realize how fucking hard it was. 

(Yes, I never quite got around to finishing this. But the thing I've realized about writing is that sometimes I feel the need for a sort of self-validation by seeing my words published on a screen. The trouble with that being, Wattpad induces a fixation with how many people read it and it makes me feel obligated to finish my piece. But here, I know I'm not obligated to anyone but myself.)

(On a random note, I'm obsessed with this webtoon called 'Let's Play' by Mongie and I don't have anywhere to fangirl about it. So hey, yesterday's episode made my brain leap of a cliff for anyone who'd care to know and I loved it.)

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