Okay, I did it and followed the good doctor’s advice to correct my thyroid problem. I filled the tub with bubbles and warm water, and I even lit candles, and set the romance book by the tub. I undressed, and looked at myself in the mirror, and blew myself kisses, and said the magic words: “I am beautiful!” I looked at my donut waist, and admired it with a smile. The stretch marks enhanced the beauty against the flickering light from the candles. Then I got into the tub…

As I sank into the bubble filled tub, the water rose to the top, and overflowed onto the floor. The candle flames went out as I knocked them over trying to reach the romance novel, and the candle wax spilled into the tub, destroying the bubbles. The romance novel fell on the floor and began to soak up the water. All thoughts of self-gratification left me, when I realized I needed to drain the tub, and get out some cleaner to scrape off the wax stuck to the drain before it clogged the pipes. I found my voice, that had been silent for so long, yelling out a few choice words.

After I got the mess cleaned up, I tossed the soggy romance novel in the trash, threw on my chenille bathrobe, and pulled out my favorite slasher novel, and started reading it while dipping Oreo’s in a tall glass of cold milk. My thyroid problem was not solved, because my donut waist was still there catching some cookie crumbs. I wonder if Oprah will fly me to her Hawaiian get-away to resolve my thyroid issue. With my luck, I will be mistaken for a beached whale, and will be netted and taken out to sea.


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