Item – Still no letter regarding post-operative appointment with Miss Consultant. I clean forgot to ring the hospital up again on Friday and re-harangue the answer-phone. Damn.
Item – I still haven’t ovulated. Satsuma, darling, do we really need to start this again? I thought we’d got this covered. It’s day 26. I’d prefer it if you got it together by day 16. You know, ten days ago. Yes, of course I’m fretting, you tiresome gonad.
Item – And the uncertainty and delay is not good for one’s sex-life. There’s only so much ‘well, we really should, because I might be ovulating’ humping a couple can take, after all. Especially when you add migraines and job-stress and family worries and the fact January sucks to it all. We both just want a nice cup of cocoa and an early night with a book. So badly. I am convinced Satsuma is just waiting until there’s not such a thing as a living sperm left in my person before popping. No, no, wait, that’s not sadistic enough. She’s waiting until there’s an almost vanishingly tiny chance that any sperm are left, and then she’ll ovulate, and then we get to spend the two-week-wait almost totally absolutely sure there’s no point in avoiding coffee and booze and liver and brie, but not quite.
Item – So, yeah, I got nothing. Waiting and grouching and waiting and grouching and waiting so on ad infinitum.
Item – I noticed quite a few of my Gentle Readers have unsubscribed recently. Well, yes, it is very boring round here at the moment. Sorry about that. I will try to get my head out of my depressed arse and try to be witty, at least, even if I can’t provide plot momentum and interesting drama. But not today. Today I am still sulking.
Item – On which note, I have the house to myself today (H is at a conference), so I am going to drink coffee, write emo poems and listen to radio documentaries about astronomical phenomena in literature. To the kettle, bat-pals!
