784

784. 
That’s how many weeks “postpartum” I am as I sit here scrolling through my newsfeed, looking at 6 weeks and 8 weeks and 12 weeks postpartum kickass ab pictures of other women as I stuff nugget after nugget of Hershey’s chocolates into my already stuffed mouth. 
784. 
I glanced down to grab a stray chunk of chocolate off of my super comfy, faded workout tee shirt, not wanting to lose a single morsel. It landed conveniently on the top roll of my “6-pack” of rolls. 
I caught sight of myself in the mirror across from where I sat on my bed. How did it come to this? How did this happen?
And then it just hit me. A blinding epiphany of self realization and complete truth:
Hairspray. I forgot to use hairspray this morning. That’s why my curls are so damn frizzy.