The Trouble with The Tummy
So okay, big announcement… I’ve decided to get serious about my diet. Really.

Because if you’ve been reading the blog, you’ll know that all my “I’m on a diet” proclamations were pretty much a big JOKE.
But no, enough of that. I’m serious now. Because my indiscretions are starting to show.

And I hate when that happens. It’s not so much a matter of not fitting into clothes. I mean that’s precisely why I broke up with pants years ago.

Dresses are kinder.
The thing I really hate about having a tumescent tummy is that people either think I’m pregnant or remember that I’ve never gotten pregnant. And then they get all Nosy McBusyBody and start asking stupid questions.

I mean, really - do you think it’s wise to ask a fortysomething that? Really?? After she’s been married for ten years? Because at this point, the answer isn’t likely to be pretty…

Or okay fine.. she could be trying to get preggo (and thus far, failing). So yeah, thanks for bringing it up. Whatever the case…it’s just AWKWARD. So why even ask?
But since I’m a (mostly) nice person, I usually just smile mysteriously and say “Hehe, we’ll see” or something similarly vague. But here’s what I’m really thinking inside.

But anyway, as usual, I digress. About that diet…
I’M DEAD SERIOUS! I’ve already contacted my favorite doctor/cousin Martin for help…

(He’s actually an OB-GYN, but I think we’ve already established that I don’t give him a lot of business in that department — so it’s a good thing he’s useful in other ways.)
And once I get better (yup, still sick) and grab all the stuff he told me to buy, I’ll be SET! So please… don’t tempt me or I may have to kill you.
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