So the other day, I am at Marshall’s and the woman in front of me in line strikes up a conversation. She seems very nice and we start to talk about my dog (so of coarse I instantly love her because anyone who wants to talk about my dog is automatically awesome). Then out of left field, she asks me if I am pregnant. Now I know that I’m wearing a scrub top (which is not too flattering) and that I may have eaten a little too much pie over the holidays, but by any means I do NOT look pregnant. Now this would be a heinous offence to any woman, but to someone who has had a chemical pregnancy, a miscarriage with a D and C, and is undergoing infertility treatment, this is especially cruel. I pride myself on being a kind and compassionate person, but in that moment I wanted to make that woman feel as awful and guilty as possible, so I told her that my husband and I had been trying for a long time with no luck. Here is the kicker….I felt bad! That’s right, I start backpedaling to make this woman feel less embarrassed. I laugh it off and say oh it’s just some extra padding for the winter. So now here I am trying to make this woman, who made be feel like crap, feel better. I just can’t be mean like that. I’m sure she feels badly already without me rubbing it in. So the moral of this story is that I tend to enjoy meeting new people, but sometimes I really do just hate people, if only for a minute, and that’s okay.