(The Grouchketeer Cheer, for those who don't rot their children's brains with Sesame Street).
It is fucking HOT here. Hot. And humid. Yesterday we went to the zoo for Member Appreciation Night. We hopped the train to get to the back of the zoo, and as we were riding we suddenly headed into a wall of rain. We all got soaked (my darling daughter because she ran in the rain and stomped in puddles, and then complained loudly that her shoes were wet the rest of the time). It's so humid that two hours later, as we were leaving, my hair was still damp. My hair is typical thin soft white-people hair and usually dries in minutes.
It's too hot to sleep, even with the AC on in our room. Our window unit is loud, so it's either suffer in our hot room or be awakened frequently by the AC unit. Since I hate being hot more than just about anything in the world, I'll take the frequent waking, but it's doing nothing for my deep crankitude.
I'm constantly low-level nauseous, which I think has little to do with the pregnancy and everything to do with the heat (since during a brief rainy reprieve yesterday I ate like a damn lumberjack). I can't make myself eat much, which means I'll suddenly realize midafternoon I am about to keel over from low blood sugar. Normally I love to cook and right now I canot make it happen. I'm pickier than my two year old daughter. Vegetables? Gross. Meat? Are you TRYING to make me throw up? Yogurt? Yum, no, wait, yuck. Even chocolate and ice cream are nasty (I may have developed a mutliple personality, because that is atypical to say the least). Picky eaters irritate the living hell out of me, so it's doubly irritating that I have become one!
Also. the World's Most Annoying Event aka the Woodward Dream Cruise is coming up, which means idiots who cannot read a fucking CALENDAR and do not know the Dream Cruise is NEXT WEEK are lining Woodward with their lawnchairs, staring at....traffic. Regulat day to day traffic. If I ever have such a low capacity for entertainment, shoot me on sight, please. However, those idiots bring out other idiots who take out their classic cars and clog one of Detroit's major thoroughfares for days before the event. Apparently no one has an actual life and need of living it along the road that week, it's all for Bubba and his friends. I have gone just the weensiest bit road rage crazy over the years and may possibly have flipped off a cruiser. Or twelve. Or driven down the road yelling obscenities. The event's bad enough, but it's a day; it's the spillover that really brings on the rage.
And? Major in-law time coming up. Enough said there.
So--how do you nice people battle nausea, heat, stupid-ass rednecks, and stick-in-the-mud in-laws who act as if you are a deeply odd person when in fact you are so average as to be boring? Tips?