Life as a 40DDDDDDDDDDD

Apart from never going braless in public, there are other activities that my breasts prohibit me from doing:

• Standing up straight. (It looks like I am pushing out my chest; instead, I tend to slouch.)

• Running for a bus or running through a crosswalk on a yellow light. Face it—I just don't run. (Yes, I'm still worried about my Cooper's droop. Imagine strapping 10-pound weights to your chest and having them swing as you run, practically knocking you out.)

• Practicing yoga. (You want me to touch my forehead to my knees? I can't—my breasts are in the way. You want me to do a headstand? I can't—my breasts cover my nose and suffocate me.)

• Walking carelessly in a small shop with fragile items. (My breasts have "bought" many broken objets d'art after inadvertently knocking them off shelves.)

• Remaining low-profile in a summer job. Busch Gardens didn't have a costume to fit me, so I wore an extra-large T-shirt in the Busch colors. All summer long, boys would come by and point, whispering, "That's the girl with the tits too big for her costume."

• Remaining low-profile in a summer job, Part 2. At McDonald's, I had to wear a button that said, "Try a large one." Imagine the classy jokes I endured that summer.