Please stop staring at my stomach when you are talking to me. Yes, it is protruding a bit. Yes, I have been wearing flowy tops and dresses lately. And yes, my boobs need their own office. I'm on my way down the hall to talk to the office manager about that right now.
But have I stared at YOUR stomach, which has been steadily growing over the side of your pants for the last year? OK, maybe a little, but only in meetings with lots of other people where I know you won't notice.
Be patient. Hopefully, I'll be out of the closet soon enough. In the meantime, please feel free to assume that I've had a few too many hits from the vending machine.
p.s. Thanks to all of you for the kind wishes re: the spotting. My ute has calmed down, and seems to realize that today is Hump Day and Friday is just around the corner.