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Howard the Cat is being so fucking annoying right now. I was gone for two nights- you’d think he’d been abandoned for months by the way he’s crawling all over me and digging in his claws. I love him dearly, but when he’s overly affectionate he draws blood. I wish I believed in declawing.

The trip to the shore went surprisingly well. Two nights and my mom didn’t insult me once. Instead, her friend did. Dan, an interior designer, looked at me and completely oblivious asked, “Oh, are you expecting again?”

I didn’t realize I look like I’m still pregnant. He tried to soften the blow by telling me how voluptuous I look. Then he told me that my arms were looking big. Thanks, dude. I look pregnant and I have fat arms. This is less than a week after Boyfiend accidentally told me that he loved my big ass. Not my cute ass, or my beautiful ass. He said he loved my BIG ASS. I know that the weight loss benefits of breastfeeding aren’t supposed to kick in for a while, but this is just fucking ridiculous.

This is a pretty accurate picture of what I look like right now. I know I’m still 25 pounds heavier than before, but I really didn’t think I still looked pregnant. Please, tell me I don’t look pregnant.

For comparison shot of how I looked a year ago. From the back. Note the absence of fat arms and big ass.

Compounding my foul mood is the lump I’ve discovered in my armpit. It could be nothing. It could be something. I won’t know until I can make an appointment with a doctor on Tuesday. It’s sort of terrifying, but it could just be an ingrown hair or a cyst or a blocked sweat gland. It’s the size of a pencil eraser. Maybe the size of a kernel of corn. But it’s a lump and I don’t particularly care for undiagnosed lumps. I can’t help but think of the worst. Everything’s been going so well. Something bad is bound to happen.