Good News

Emaciated Lady isn’t the only one battling pregnancy rumors at work. The other day I went in late because I had a doctor’s appointment. At a certain point in the afternoon, a coworker asked me if I had received “good news.” I was baffled. Did I get a secret promotion?

Since I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about, I said no and walked away. But then my curiosity got the best of me, so I turned around and asked what kind of good news I might be expecting. She smirked and whispered, “that you’re pregnant.” My instantaneous reaction was to look down and measure the protrusion of my belly. She must’ve noticed what I was doing because she then added, “you know, because you almost fainted a few weeks ago…”

Right. Because almost fainting + doctor’s appointment weeks later = must be knocked up. Completely logical conclusion. Now I have to worry about mother fuckers watching my stomach to see if I’m lying. I’m tempted to just put a sign there that says, “It’s a genetic flaw, not an incubator, now mind your own fucking business.”