Pregnancy: a state of body.

"Are you pregnant or something?"


Thus asks the 7th grade twit I worked with yesterday. The worst part was, she wasn't trying trying to be a smart alec -- she was completely sincere in her questioning. But it doesn't stop here, she follows her initial injury with more insults:

"You look pregnant. Or maybe you're just fat. Do you eat too much? Why don't you exercise?"

Despite the tidal wave of words mounting on the tip of my tongue, my simple reply amounted to:
"Oh really? You think I'm pregnant? Well maybe I am, and maybe I'm not."

"Maybe you are, and maybe you're not? Which one is it?"

"The world will never know." I bit my tongue. So much it bled.


Let me tell you about this little monster of a girl who looks more likely to be pregnant than I do: she's short (4'10"-ish), dreadfully obese for a kid her age, and wearing clothes two sizes too small. Now I am never one to comment on a person's weight since it's a a rather sensitive subject for many of us, but this little brat was asking for it. So since I was kind enough to not make her cry in school, I will take the high road and talk about her behind her back. Really now, is there no filter on that mouth of hers? As a matter of fact, I am NOT pregnant, I do work out regularly, and I know I'm still overweight. That's no reason to call someone a lazy, fat, over-eater.
Besides, I can guarantee you that she weighs more than me, eats like a hog (yes, I witnessed this personally), and has probably never ran before in her life.

This is what I get for accepting a classified job.