It’s not just my waistline

Yesterday I went to the gym for the first time in a while. I admit that I was slacking for a while, what with the nausea and all, but since I’ve been feeling better I’ve actually started working out again. I taped three episodes of Inhale to take on vacation (I fucking hate that cocksucker Steve Ross, always telling you to dance, but the yoga’s not bad) and I actually made my way through the tape two and a half times. Since returning home I’ve gone to two 75-minute yoga classes. So even though I hate the fact that I’ve gained ten pounds while I don’t actually look pregnant yet, I haven’t been feeling that bad.

Until yesterday. When the lovely staff at my gym told me that my ass is getting bigger. Of course it was immediately followed by how hot and curvaceous I am now, but really Chris, that was too little too late. Never tell a pregnant woman her ass looks big.

I was hoping that I’d be one of those women who stays thin and pretty except for a basketball-sized belly, but obviously that’s not to be. My waistline, my ass- what’s next? My ankles?