Personal Day

I took yesterday off work, and I still have one more personal day saved up before my last day next Friday. I took yesterday off because I hate this lousy job. The subconscious reason though was that my deli girl asked if I was pregnant.

Almost everyday I go to this deli on 34th and Madison and pay nearly 4 dollars for a small cup of soup. The same girl is always the cashier. In fact, I don’t think she’s taken a single day off in the year that I’ve been going. Yesterday as I was putting up my change and in a bad mood from my stupid job she asked if I was pregnant. I responded, ‘no, aren’t you glad you asked?’ She giggled. I don’t know if she really heard the ‘aren’t you glad you asked’ part.

There was no pause between question and answer. It was like answering ‘which way is Macy’s?’ it didn’t affect me at all, until I sat down started eating my small cup of soup and getting pissed. I eat approximately 8 oz of salty water with a few morsels of chicken in it, some carrot slices and bits of boiled celery everyday. If you knew that, would you ask me if I was pregnant? I’m SO within a healthy BMI. I’m no America’s Next Top Model, but I’m certainly not carrying a fetus for the love of God.

So, I didn’t work out that night in some bizarre retaliation. I’m not pregnant and I’m not going to the gym. Fuck you and your Fascist Beauty Standards, Deli Girl. It’s just because I have bigger boobs than her. So, I took the day off of work yesterday, and found out that Deli Girl had just mistaken me for the slender, famous Katie Holmes.