Let's just say it's the hormones

In the past few weeks, I have encountered several people who made me want to punch them in the face, including:

- The checkout lady at Party City who asked me if I was having twins. When I said "no," she replied "but you are so BIG." Yes, yes I am, f*ck you very much.
- The woman giving me a pedicure last weekend who said she didn't even notice I was pregnant...apparently, she just thought I was wicked fat.
- The mother at Chick-fil-a who wouldn't control her daughter (or even watch her for that matter), who insisted on pulling and pushing my daughter around (and my friend's twin daughters) in the play area. I finally had to ask her daughter to quit manhandling them myself. Argh.

Then there are the people that I imagined doing something evil to me:
- The cashier at Chick-fil-a who I thought was giving me flack over ordering a coke, but who was actually just concerned because I was holding my stomach (it's sort of an arm rest these days).
- The woman who kept staring to the point that I almost asked "what the f*ck is your problem?" Before I blurted it out, she said "you look so radiant."

Man, what is wrong with me? Shouldn't I be all glowing and nesting and whatever? Instead, I'm acting like I am in in training to be the Ultimate Fighting Champion.