Driving Under the Influence...of Hormones

     I don't mind driving.  After all, my commute to work is an hour one way.  Usually I like to listen to the radio and enjoy the built in 'me' time the drive provides .  However, lately things have been a little...different.  

     For starters, I am 5'3" tall, and with this belly I'm about as wide.  Which means that I have my seat up as far as it will go so my feet can reach the pedals, and the steering wheel jacked up so it is practically parallel with the floor. This allows for the bump to nestle directly underneath the steering wheel, thus making my arms jut out at 90 degree angles while steering.  It is not attractive.  I look like a school bus driver when operating my vehicle which, incidentally, is the tiniest car known to man.  

     Ok, so it's not the tiniest car, but if a Volkswagen Beatle and a SmartCar made a baby the result of their union would be my car, the Suzuki Reno.  I feel like my left elbow is always bruised from banging into the driver's side window while maneuvering, and I find that I am taking any small traffic incident personally.  For example, my eyes actually welled up with tears when a jackass routinely cut me off at my on ramp, and construction makes me  weep bitterly.  Everyone tells you how when you are pregnant you will want pickles and ice cream, and you will cry at tampon commercials.  But no one tells you that you will be sobbing like it's the first time you have ever seen "Old Yeller" when trying to do something as simple as go to work. So next time you are driving to work, be grateful that you have adequate room for all of your appendages to move freely. Trust me, I'm so jealous I could cry.