Advent

You can tell that the Festive Spirit (close cousin to the Positive Thinking Fairy) has done a drive-by chez nous. For starters, H has gone off to look pallid in the study, as I have worn him to a frazzle by brutally forcing him to sign Christmas cards to every single godforsaken member of the extensive (and mostly resolutely unChristian) clan. The cards are rather nice ones, with glitter (courtesy of HFF). The glitter is now in my hair, in my eyebrows, down my cleavage, on H’s face (these last two are in no way connected), and yet, the cards, they are as twinkly as ever. It’s magic.

While lurking in the study, H is listening to Christmas music and carols. And I am singing the descants (or, at least, aiming wildly at and probably missing the descants), because this amuses me.

I have actually got out the rolls of wrapping paper and admired them.

Oh, and we have an Advent Calendar, a perfectly dinky one (this one a gift from HFF), and I actually really really get all squeaky about it being MY TURN to open the little door and admire the little picture. Positive Thinking Fairy is having a field-day.

In fact, the beastly fluffy creature is absolutely overwhelmed with excitement because my temperatures! They’re so high! (This is true. They haven’t been this high during a luteal phase since – wait, I’ll check – since October last year. And before that, May 2008. Yes, I know. So does the Positive Thinking Fairy, damn her). And I started getting metal-mouth on something like 5 days past ovulation. Tender and gigantic bosoms. Sicky and heart-burny and burpy. And so on. It’s only 7dpo now. This is all completely meaningless (squeeeee! Squeeeeee!). If you will all now excuse me a moment, Bitter McTwisted has to grab the Positive Thinking Fairy by the throat and shake her until her teeth rattle.

It’d be far more productive and sensible to work out what to do about a) timing my day 3 bloodwork, b) dealing with the fact that there are two work Christmas events, and three (three! We are decimated) leaving parties for soon-to-be-ex-colleagues, right when I will very nearly certainly be in bathroom-floor mode. Missing all five events will need Explaining. Gah.

Meanwhile, H is, I think, working out a good day to produce his semen sample for analysis, keeping in mind he’ll have to take the morning off work and also have to have had sex/a visit to Rosie Palm and her five lovely daughters the right number of days before-hand, and also also the lab only accepts samples on certain days and you have to phone up beforehand (before hand! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!) to make sure they even want your little pot of warm potential. I’m staying out of it.

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