I had a proper hormonal, crying melt-down on Saturday.
At 15+4 I can not longer comfortably fit into my work trousers. I can put them on, but they piss me off around my waist. So off I went to my closest town to try and find some suitable work trousers. It's not a big town, but it had 5 or 6 women's clothes shops. I went through every single one and only found one with a maternity section (which was tiny). I tried on every kind of black trousers they had and nothing fit. Bump isn't big enough to hold up over the bump trousers. Skinny legs are in fashion and I never wear those as I look horrendous in them. I decided to change tact and try non-maternity but larger sized stuff, and of course nothing really fit. And when I did find the odd thing which might suit, they only had it in a size 10 or size 22 (I'm about a 14).
I managed to hold it together in the shops, but by the time I got home (it's only a 15 minute drive) the poor husband had to deal with a snivelling, snotty mess that was me. 'Nothing fits, I must be a freak, I'm so uncomfortable, blah blah blah!' Then I did the usual crying even harder because I am fully aware during all this I'm being melodramatic but I can't help it. 'I'm so stereotypical!' I wailed. The poor chap held it together quite well and hardly laughed at all.
Been shopping online, which I hate since stuff never fits when I pick it off the rack so how will I know from a picture. Praying the one pair of 'acceptable' trousers I found will fit.
That was the rant of the day, brought to you by the letter P(eed off).