There is a wee mammal growing inside of me. It's true. 4 months of truth to be precise. To document this process I plan on carrying on in a similar manner only with a giant hump on my front torso and two swollen veiny breasts. I may disguise the hump in fur and feathers or bury myself in the surface of the ground and watch as the ants crawl over me with food scrappings. There will be nudity and occasional mud rolls, sultry lappings of ice cream on simmering summer days and more than enough hormonal fluctuations to make an bassoon sing on its own.