So, I’m either pregnant or enjoying a MAGNIFICENT spell of pre-shark week pleasantness. There is the boobal tenderness that wraps around the band of my bra, the charming mood swings (great for professional AND personal relationships!), an appetite like a teenage boy’s (without commensurate metabolic exchange), and the zits. Good lord, the zits. I haven’t been this oily and spotty since Bowman Junior High, Plano, Texas, 1983? 84? Whatever the hell year I was in 7th grade.
I will choose to ignore this potential situation until AFTER my 35th birthday, this Saturday the 29th. Because that is Cocktail Day, and no damned fetus is going to stand between me and my Birthday Cocktails. And cake.