The tiny silver lining with the big frackin' cloud

I love girls' lunch/night out.  I haven't had girl friends for a long time - like most married couples, we have couple friends.  Or, sometimes we had a group, like when we played wallyball.  Girl groups are a little different, and I really enjoy them.

I don't know what happened.  It's not their fault.  I had an off day.  I didn't feel right all morning.

I ordered too much food.  I thought the crepes were going to be small, so I ordered the plate that came with two.  I was the only one who did so.  Awkward, even though I didn't eat it.   I had to endure yet another well-meaning, but ultimately shaming weight-loss conversation.  Sigh.

My stomach started really hurting about halfway through lunch.  Two trips to the bathroom later, and I was still in pain.  I had to leave early.

I get to the car, and some ass-hat has parked over the line, leaving me about 6 inches of space to open the driver's door.  I am more than 6 inches wide.  The other side is free, but I can't climb in.  I am paralyzed for a moment.  I look around, but no one is claiming this car.  I think about slamming my door into their car, hoping that the resulting dent will give me enough space to squeeze in.   I think about keying their car.

I would wait, but my stomach is still hurting, and I just want to go home.

I swallow my pride, and I go ask for help.  Luckily, the girls are still there, and one of them helps me while I yell expletives in the parking lot, helpless, frustrated, FAT. 

Is this why women over 40 are more prone to agoraphobia?  Once I'm home, I never want to leave the house again.  Unlike the Hollywood heroine, this does not spur me to workout endlessly and eat carrot sticks.  It makes me want to crawl in bed and put my head under the covers.

I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow, but today SUCKED.