Pregnant or Just Getting Chunky?

I took a pregnancy test last night. Not that I could possibly be pregnant, but it was the only viable explanation for my burgeoning belly. Granted I’ve been training for a 10K, but I’ve also been eating for triplets lately. On Tuesday, my grandma turned 90, so I took her to an all-you-can-eat Japanese food buffet. Please note- buffet is never a good idea. I try to eat my money’s worth or at least the equivalent to my weight - in food. I tried to eat all the foods I don’t typically consume- like spicy lobster balls. Those aren’t a staple food at my house and so I justified eating five, along with two plates of sushi, a plate of desserts, and other things I probably should not have consumed in the same month. That night, my grandma wanted Kentucky Fried Chicken- her other favorite food. Something she remembers that I’ve temporarily forgotten is that the key to an acceptable number on the scale is the same calories in as out. She walks each morning and rides her stationary bike. That’s why she’s 90 and still living independently. My grandma can eat whatever the hell she pleases because she’s smart about it. Me- I eat until I’ve made myself sick and my fingers are so swollen with MSG and sodium the next day that I can barely type.

The next night I had a meeting at a Chinese food restaurant. Again, I thought it a good idea to order things I don’t usually eat. I don’t usually eat them because they are mostly dishes of pork and deep fried, high caloric foods swimming in pools of salt and grease. And this would explain why in a few weeks I’ve developed a muffin top and can’t understand why my pants don’t fit the same way.

I’m not pregnant. I just need to lay off the Oreos and chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Perhaps when I’m 90 I can splurge a little.