I cracked. I peed on a stick.
Waste of a Goddamn gold-and-seed-pearl-encrusted expensive peestick.
Meanwhile, just so we all know exactly what a dill-weed thing to do that was, I’m not 100% sure when I ovulated. I think it was the evening of Wednesday 31st, based on Satsuma pitching a fit, and my fertility chart thinks it was Thursday 1st, due to temperature and *cough* other signs. And H and I had last had sex on Monday, since when H has been knocked flat by the Real Flu (which, incidentally, is still kicking his arse, poor bloody H). So, really, unless H has managed to produce a handful of SAS endurance sperm-squaddies that Monday, peeing on sticks is an exercise in futility.
Period is due either Tuesday (by Satsuma-fit timing) or Wednesday (by chart), and, frankly, dpo 11 or only 10 is a stupidly early time to pee even on an expensive pee-stick.
But H might have produced a mighty squaddie. I might have ovulated Wednesday.
And this Universe might be a smiling and benevolent one.
And I am still a raging dill-weed.