When did I lose my social skills?

I have always considered myself a sort of female Chandler Bing. I have a knack for making jokes at inappropriate times, or when I'm uncomfortable, like at a wake or funeral, or to people who have no sense of humor. Except I go for the joke so quickly after meeting them that I don't realize what a slim chance I have of making them even smirk, let alone laugh out loud.

On top of this, lately I'm noticing I'm not only making jokes at inappropriate times, but I just say the wrong thing. It could be because I'm unemployed and home all day, not interacting with anyone except maybe our 75-year-old retired neighbor. (I even gave up morning news shows after all the Susan Boyle and Michael Jackson coverage irritated the crap out of me.) It could be because this pregnancy, I'm told, is causing me to lose brain cells. It could be that I'm just getting older and my conversation filter peaked in my late 20s, when I considered myself pretty savvy at conversation and small talk.

The other night, I joined Brian for his grade school reunion (yes, they have these in Chicago, where most grade schools are K-8 and then they "graduate" and go on to any number of public or private high schools). We walk into the party room and are first greeted by two women, one of whom is visibly pregnant. As it turns out, she's due in September. I carefully considered what to ask her that wouldn't be the same old questions I get all the time but decided just to ask how she was feeling. She told us she has gestational diabetes. I know a few people who have had this, and I could have said something like, "It's crazy how common that is." or something else that would make her feel normal. No, not me, instead I practically yell, "Aw, I was so afraid of getting that because of all the food restrictions, that would stink!" Okay, did I have to remind her of how hard it probably is? She replied by kindly explaining that it isn't that bad, and that she has to keep telling herself it's not because of anything she did wrong, etc. Fortunately Brian piped in with some question about managing it, and how it's not full-on diabetes, and it goes away, blah blah. He then segued into an update on their classmate who has diabetes but manages it quite well with a pump, and how amazing the pump technology is compared to giving himself insulin shots every day.

It was very much like a wake we went to this spring, when I started to randomly reminisce to my friend's brother - their dad had passed away - about all the fun we would have when he'd visit us at college. Brian stepped in that time with a somber "I'm very sorry for your loss" that quieted me down. I had evidently forgotten we were in a funeral home. With this pregnant girl, all I could think was how annoyed I would have been if I were her.

I hope this new found social awkwardness, like the nightly leg cramps and the extra 30 pounds, goes away once the baby is here. Otherwise I'll have to leave our son's "art of conversation" lessons to Brian (and maybe I should sit in on some of those). If they don't, I might never work again because I can't make it through a networking event or, God forbid, an interview, without cracking a poorly timed joke.