The vending machine at work running out of animal crackers.
Reading Love You Forever.
Blog paranoia. Not familiar? It goes something like this. "Gosh, Suzie hasn't commented on my blog in a while. Actually, Suzie hasn't responded to any of my comments on her blog in a while either. She must hate me. No, wait, she's just really busy. No, she hates me. I'll bet Katie said something bad about me to her and now she hates me. Or else she really is just busy. No, I'm positive she hates me." Repeat daily, or more often if needed.
My husband. He shouldn't be making me cry, right? He should be psychic and able to tell precisely at any second the exact right thing to say to me to make me not cry. I think he just isn't trying.
My job. I mean, they want me to do actual work. I can't work, I'm pregnant.
All the ice cream vending machines at the zoo being broken.
All the bananas this morning being either too ripe and mushy or still green.
Knowing that I have to have another sonogram on Wednesday, because clearly they screwed up last time and this time will find something terribly, terribly wrong.
Getting a sunburn. Not because it hurts, just because it is unattractive.
Every single baby I have seen.