So, I told Scott

So, I told Scott that I'm pregnant today, and due in November.  He wasn't as much as an ass as I thought he would be, although still not as fun to tell as I'm sure it would be to tell a woman - they always are more excited and bubbly about that kind of thing.  He did say congrats, we talked about leave, blah blah blah, and as I was walking out the door he did mention something about starting up the "fat jokes" again... AAH!  Oh well.  Truthfully, I've proved to myself that after the birth of a child a woman's body doesn't have to become just a vessel to get us around - we can shape it back into a performance machine that we're proud to be a part of.  So what do I care if Scott starts up the fat jokes?  The problem last time was that people latched on to Scott and did whatever he did, instead of thinking for themselves.  This time I've been a bit more established for a while, and I don't think the majority of staff around here would dare say a single "funny" thing to me about my expanding waistline, lest they want to be punched square in the nose.

I think I'll have a piece of baklava to celebrate that remark.

What's even funnier about it all is that Scott said there has been "talk" in the office about the possibility that I'm pregnant.  I know I look a bit thicker, but my stomach stuck WAY out last time, and it's not even really doing anything yet this time, although I guess in the beginning of the summer season it's more normal to thin down than bulk up... and I've definitely been bulking up.  So I could have gone a little longer without telling Scott, but apparently he would have already known.

There's so much secretive talking around here it's disgusting.  And that bugs me.

Maybe those biyatches are reading my blog?  Do you wenches have the balls to make a comment to me about you secretly reading everything I hate about you?