The painters are in

I just got my period. Exclamation mark.

It's the first one I've had since coming off the Pill. Which means two things:
1) I'm not pregnant (which means no immaculate conception that I could turn into another bestselling sequel to the Bible)
2) now I can go back on the Pill. 


Not that I'd really want to.

I somehow thought I'd finally get rid of the bloating which I naturally blamed on my body being messed up by the hormonal changes. But no. Turned out I'm  not bloated. I'm just fat. 


And what's the point of not having sex if you still end up looking pregnant? And where's the sense in not being on the Pill when you're still bloated?


I've often wondered about those women with their amazing weight loss success stories who tell how it was seeing their holiday snaps that prompted them into taking action. I've been looking at the photos of us from Stockholm. Well, photos of me, really. My cheeks are so big there's no room for anybody else's head on the pictures. I look like a hamster, getting ready for winter. Perhaps this is my wake-up call?


Seeing how I intend to spend my holiday lounging by the pool in my new bikini and engaging in other activities revolving around equally minuscule attires I have 9 days until I need to look fabulous good tolerable naked. So, nuts and seeds and goji berries and low calorie-soups and Ryvita it is. 


I just might even have a go at that infamous Pilates DVD...