Feelings very much on the up, feelings a tinsy winsy bit down - mixed feelings all around.
So what do we do about it?
We eat copious amounts of Wenselydale and Cranberry Cheese. Oh yes we jolly well do. Skip, skip, skip to the delicatessan, take a ticket, wait for your number to pop up on the triangle digital display. Ask the counter girl to cut you a veritable wedge of the cow stuff. Not too big and not to little. There, just about right. You watch the wire pierce the truckle of curdled milk. She weighs it - its just the right amount! How do they do that? You pay for it, you go home and you bang it in the fridge until you suffer a feeling. The feeling could be high or it could be low but your body cries out for the lactose fuelled edibleness of mouse trappings. And then comes the gorge. Wafer thin slice, then a crumbly bit and then a chunk leads to the whole wedge.
I can't be preggo.
What is this nonsense?
Munch munch munch until every last crumb and cranberry is working its way throught my intestines to be sorted at the fat/protein/lactose/vitamin department and be equally distributed as cellulite on my butt, thighs, chins and bellies.
BURP. Pardon me. Acid reflux and bile spats the back of my oesophagus.
It was totally worth it.
**waves the "V" peace sign and resorts to bedford with Dr Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**
Cuckoo. La la.