It's time.
The two-week grace period is over. It's time to get down and dirty with the last 20-odd pounds I have to lose from this pregnancy. Granted, I gained about 50 with that massive edema I endured at the end (Good news--I can see the veins and tendons in my feet again! And I can see my feet...) so I'm thrilled that I dropped 30 just by surviving the birth. Maybe that's why I was so weepy that first week--sweating like a pig and peeing like a racehorse just didn't do the job of getting rid of all that water. I had to cry some of it out too.
But seriously, I have nearly nothing that fits and I've got to get back to work next week. Not to mention the fact that I have two weddings to attend next month--both of my triathlon friends... I can see it now: crowds of type-A hardbodies and there I am, all mushy and amorphous, one boob inevitably bigger than the other and probably leaking. She must be the fat cousin. Ugh. Not gonna happen. So tomorrow it begins. I am going to take advantage of the surprising popularity of this blog and publicly post a horrid, humiliating Before Picture of myself.
You'll enjoy that, won't you? You will--admit it! You looked at the Elepheet, you laughed at the tick pic. You know you're going to be hitting F5 all day tomorrow until I post that photo. Wow--she really looks like crap. Better her than me. Well, at least someone's fatter than me...
Not for long, Porky! I am nothing if I am not vain and competitive.
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