Transplanted Life
Sunday, August 17, 2003
Figures. I start thinking, hey, Michelle's body isn't all bad, and this morning after taking a shower, I noticed some fat on Michelle's butt. Not a whole lot; just enough to jiggle a bit when I jumped up and down. As to why I was jumping up and down in front of Michelle's mirror in just a pair of panties... Um, never mind.

I guess it's not totally unexpected; even though Michelle's body isn't feeling queasy when I have a burger any more, it's still probably more calories than Michelle was taking in. It could be a lot worse; I've always gotten the mid-afternoon munchies, and in all my other jobs, it's been nothing to have a bag of potato chips at my desk at 3:30 every afternoon. Projects a bad image for your receptionist to be doing that, though. The funny thing is, half an hour later, I'm not hungry any more, and wasn't in my own body, either. And once I get home for dinner, I'm eating less anyway - Michelle's stomach fills up qucker than mine, as I learned pretty quick.

I'm not sure what I want to do about it. On the one hand, it would serve Michelle right if she got her body back and it was a porker, but on the other hand, aside from her maybe not wanting it back if it's not in good shape, I've got to live in it until then, and being out of shape's no fun. I hate working out, though - I was lucky enough to grow out of being "the fat kid" at puberty, and going to the gym bores the hell out of me.

Bears some thinking on, I guess. Not too much, though - even if I've got to live a girl's life, I'm not going to spend too much of it worrying about being a pound or two overweight.

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