Being a liar

1 October 2015

I think I lied about three times today. Being pregnant does that to you.

Firstly, I’m still trying to figure out if the nurses are just playing a game with me about actually being pregnant. They could be lying too. As odd as it sounds, I keep waking up thinking I’m going to get an sms saying ‘haha! just kidding!’. Slight stretch of the real fear, but its there.

I randomly asked my colleague, who is actually pregnant (well, by actually I mean, she’s further along than me – by about 6 months!) about the pilates class she went to last night. Innoncently asking a question I otherwise would never have asked. LYING.

I proudly announced I was doing OcSober (no big suprises there as I do it every year), but kindly kept to myself it would be lasting until June next year. LIAR!

Finally, as I was asked about how life was, and if I’d be considering changing jobs (I had mentioned it before) or moving back to town (I had mentioned that a few times too) – I had to lie. And say I was just, you know… ‘chilled’.

Really? Chilled? The girl wears hypothetical running shoes and plans her life getaway constantly is now ‘chilled’. Clearly someone doesn’t know me as well as they think they do, as the lie… was bought.

Pregnancy makes you a liar. But I can deal with cardinal sin number 2. Because I’m pregnant. I’m really frikkin pregnant. A pregnant lier. But still.. pregnant. *Bounces off walls just a little*

**please note the use of frikkin. Or Freaking. Or friggin. This is in an attempt to stop swearing before the baby arrives.

Oh my actual fuck there’s going to be a baby arriving!

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