My boobs have gone missing

I think I have sussed out why I hate Thursdays so much just lately. It's because for the last month or so, I have been full of expectation each Thursday re; waiting for the call from Papworth and only to have it knocked out of me come Friday when I still hadn't gone 'live'.
Of course that little conundrum has now passed...yay...but it appears that I am stuck in a rut.
Tra laa, it's that simple, so now I have got to learn to embrace Thursdays again...easy peasy.

Friday could take over the title of Black Thursdays, as this morning I realised someone had stolen my boobs! It is true, I no longer fill up the cups of my bras and in fact, I can see my toes through the empty cups.
My empty cups could be hammocks for family pets i.e. hamsters, gerbils or maybe even little kittens.
Damn it, the only good thing about being over weight, was that I had grown into a 40DD bra size...Oooo I had boobs that I could only dreamt of before...and now I have gone back down to a 38C or D at a push, but definitely floppy.
So unfair. They look like Spaniels dogs ears again...darn it.
Surely all these weights that I've been lifting at rehab, should have helped them to stay a little bit perter? All the years that I walked around bra less in my 20's or had a greedy baby strapped to one of them, hasn't helped either...massive sulk coming on.
Why can't I have lost weight, but kept my boobs?
Or maybe, when they whip out my lungs, they could tuck them into my saggy maggies and give me an impromptu boob job??
It's worth asking about surely, after all the lungs are only going to be put out in the garbage bin, so waste not want not hey?
Ah well a girl can dream.

Lots of love Debbie x