Career Woman had her 5 1/2 month scan this week. PAAM said she made the mistake of enquiring about the sex of the baby, to which Career Woman replied, "I'm not being funny, but I just don't want to talk about it."
Career Woman, who has at least one Armani pantsuit, is only just starting to show, and if you didn't know she was pregnant, you'd not guess. The boobs are huge, going from like, a US C cup to a DD or nearabouts. She's very slim, as well, and she never walks around without her suit jacket on anymore. The jacket sticks out a bit, but really, nothing you'd notice if you weren't, say, surreptitiously staring whenever the chance arose.
PAAM, on the other hand, is 10-12 weeks along and there's already a good sized bump. She rubs it a lot.
Having read Amyesq's latest post, I am relieved I have no siblings. Well, none that I speak to.
But of course, that also means no genes will be passed along.
I'm sure she and her sister will work it out. However, personally speaking, I don't think I would ever let her know anything about my personal life ever again. And visits would be few and far between. And if my husband ever said anything even remotely as ass-hattery as the sister's bf, I would, in a nutshell, go medieval on his ass.
Then again, I spoke about the haves and the have-nots in another post not that long ago. I sincerely hope that Amyesq's sister's bf finds a bit of compassion somewhere. If not, he might find parenthood a lot more difficult than he thinks.
And I'm sorry, too, that Amyesq feels the need to make her blog private. I guess reading how she really feels was just too much for her family to take. I'm not surprised, mind, just sad. I will hold it against them, even though she probably won't, because I'm bitter like that.
When you call and try to return a curtain pole that you bought in March of this year because it doesn't fit, it's not our fault that a) the store is under new ownership and that b) you've lost out on $80 because you've been 'doing your house'. You brought in your measurements, the member of staff who helped you told you that the size of the pole was appropriate for your window, and the fact that it's been 8 months since you bought the pole is not our fault. You bought the largest pole that we carry after you gave us your measurements - those would be the measurements you no longer have, by the way. So, no. You don't get your money back. Have a nice day.
I'm not good enough.
I'm not pretty.
I'm not even attractive.
I'm not thin.
I hate my job.
I don't want to eat.
I hate my body.
I do not want to know this pain.
I've failed NaNoWriMo. Again.
I have no hope.
I want to sleep all the time.
I want to cry all the time.
I am ashamed of my body.
I am ashamed of my acne ridden face.
I wonder how people can be happy being ignorant.
I wish Metformin was my miracle.
I know and fear that I will always be this weight, not matter what I do.
I know and fear the dislike and hatred my weight engenders among others.
I do not understand why people think I'm lying when I say the above. To me, it's no more than the truth...and I've yet to be proved wrong.