I look really rough nowadays: greasy hair; oily, pimply skin; random, blotchy patches of discolored flesh; the stench of bile which envelopes my body like an aura; bleeding gums; and gas. Yes, I said gas. I know you don't want to hear about it but it's one of the not-so-pleasant side effects of pregnancy. It might actually be the worst symptom because, unlike vomiting and insane stomach cramps, it affects everyone in a 20-30 foot radius. In public, this unpleasantness parts the masses while the elderly lie crumpled in my wake, gasping for breath in heaps like beached fish flopping around, desperately hoping their panicked fight will bring them back to their life-source.
I suppose the morning sickness is a blessing because I don't leave the house now. Ever. I've become nothing more than a mysterious hermit that people hear stories of; children scare one another with these haunting tales of the creapy, smelly, pizza-faced lady on Agassiz Street who vomits incessantly and never comes out of her house except on the full moon to scare the bejeezus out of 10 year old little boys. Parents use these same tales to scare their children into obedience. Yep, that's me: pale-green, anemic-looking, stinky and antisocial. Isn't that a lovely picture? Yea, I'm not getting laid for a while.
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