these past seven weeks of postpartum have been a lot like puberty. i bleed. i cry. i cramp. i break out. i hate my body. and once again i find myself relating all too well to the likes of alanis morisette. at least i don't have homework. at least i don't have mrs. robinson. at least i don't have braces. at least i don't have to worry about who i should or shouldn't sit with in the cafeteria. at least i don't have to sit in front of matt, who liked to put shit in my hair. at least i don't have to play flag football.
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