I'm trying to keep my business, my triplets, and my waistline under control. I excel at one of those, fail at another one of those, and one is a work in progress. Which is which is day dependant.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

For The Record...

The very next person to say, "Well, at least you'll lose some weight," when they hear about my recent sickness...will be forced to suffer a very long, very painful near-death experience. I say "near" death because I want that person to feel every moment of suffering. This will involve but is not limited to:

- Having to hang out with the most annoying OPK I know, and the play date will involve having to do craft activities which are designed expressly to annoy people,
- Eating my Mother In Law's cooking (sorry MIL),
- Conversing about parenting with the now infamous Helicopter Mum,


- Going on a Cub-and-You camp which does not have any actual toilets or cooking facilities.

Because, seriously, after more than 10 days of feeling like my ass is on fire, and harbouring a bad mood the sort of which is usually felt by postal workers wielding an AK-47...I do not give a flying fig if I have lost even one quarter of one eighth of an ounce. Right now, all I really want for Christmas is the ability to do a solid shit.

Thank you. You may now return to your regular programming (and may I suggest you not call me and mention weight loss vis-a-vis food poisoning.)

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