Two (2)

My days of looking good are numbered. Though inside I already feel baby-full, outside, the fact is that I still pass as a little heavy on the whoopie pie side but, otherwise, still pretty hot. So - last ditch attempt for attention – tonight I went out.

I went out… and I had two glasses of wine. That’s right ladies, call the pregnancy police: I had two (2) glasses of wine. Spaced out by two (2) hours. And I ate two (2) meals so that the alcohol would never make it out of my stomach (as may not the pizza and the burger, which are definitely still there).

When you go out on the town, you always run the risk of running into your ex. The advantage of this is that you know they aren’t at home making house with someone else.

The disadvantage is that usually after you break up with someone, you don’t want to see them – at least not until you have gone to the gym obsessively for two (2) months, waxed, dyed, plucked and generally had the opportunity to demonstrate what a glorious mistake they made. Me, I don’t have that luxury. If I don’t run into my ex RIGHT NOW, I will be fat, acned, and hunchbacked.