I have decided that dolling out random compliments is about the nicest thing a person can do for a pregnant woman. Last night Graham and I ate at The Red Bar (cue salivation). On the way out a woman stopped me by the arm and said "You look great". It made my life.
Let me lay it out for you. I am 7 1/2 months pregnant, 25 pounds heavier than I was this time last year and at the beach where (as if the aforementioned things did not already make me feel large enough to physically eat Panama City) every tanorexic college student within a 9 state radius has decided to spend the week.
They lounge there on their towels, all tan and size-zero, sunbathing RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. I hate them all. I am no longer dwelling over being able to eat Panama City...I am going to eat them.