No wonder I’m fat
No wonder I’m fat

No wonder I’m fat

Housing a little human inside your body requires a certain level of adjustment. For one, your body balloons because little babies need huge spaces to grow. Except after she leaves the incubation zone, your body does not revert to its pre-hosting form… ah childbirth is easy to blame. The truth is, I was fat before I conceived.

When I transitioned from flying a roster to pen-for-hire, suddenly I wasn’t paid to take hour-long runs anymore. By contrast, the number of words I bang out is directly proportionate to the numbers in my bank account. So I contracted freelancer syndrome (TM), AKA a workaholic with no work-life balance. Since I only earn when I work, but not when I do weighted squats in the gym, guess which one I usually pick?

Then the baby came. Suddenly, my idea of “working out” is the sprints I do to keep her from snacking on her soiled diaper.

To say nothing of the calories a breastfeeding mother is obliged to consume to maintain a steady supply of ivory liquid — it’s true, I swear!

Case in point:

Last night, Broady and I decided to have Round Pizza Napaletana for dinner, because when you’re stuck at home daily with a baby, trying anything new makes you feel like Indiana Jones — minus fedora hat; plus stroller. We ordered the Pepperoni e Confit Garlic with pork pepperoni.

To be fair, it wasn’t bad

For the uninitiated (me until last night), the pizzas at Round Pizza Napaletana are contemporary Napaletana pizzas. Unlike their traditional counterpart, the contemporary version is well-hydrated, which results in an “airy, light, and puffy pizza crust”, as TRP puts it. This means the pizza is healthier and easier to chew — mistake number 1. Because how filling is an “airy and light” pizza?!

Mistake number 2 was paying RM 66 for an “airy and light” pizza (RM 72 including tax) and expecting to be full.

What is a girl to do after walking out of a not-dinner? Go for dinner 2.0, of course.

And so we did. At Brader John of Uptown, the Ramly food truck with a longer line than ONO in their snobbclusive heyday.

The standard waiting time at Brader John is an hour.

What do you do with time like that? Have mid-dinner dessert, of course. Waffle drizzled with chocolate sauce, topped with marshmallow chunks, pretzels, served with a scoop of chocolate ice cream and fluffy whipped cream. It was delicious.

I forgot to mention what I had for tea three hours prior.

It was scones, thank you for asking.

Since Broady decided he didn’t want his, I had both — plain and apricot. With extra jam and cream (appreciate it, nice waiter!).

That, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why ya girl iz fat.

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