Item – No, no I’m not. I don’t think. (But yes, I do spend a few minutes every day-break waiting to go beep. (Temping. It works for me. Your mileage may vary)).
Item – I did break out the first HPT of the cycle this morning, and it was negative, because it’s 9dpo, May, you OCD nutcase. (My excuse for testing damnably early this time? The MIL is coming to stay tomorrow (did I mention?) and, well, if I have to freak out either way, I’d rather do it a tad privately and get the fuck over myself before she arrives. And maybe, recoup some emotional energy spare for the purposes of enjoying her company).
Item – Symptoms? Vicious heartburn, so bad it makes me dry heave, and inflated aching bosoms. They look pleasingly impressive and I won’t let H near them.
Item – Did I also mention my period is due on my 36th birthday? Did I? Do you mind me mentioning it again? No? Good, because I also need to say fuck you, Universe.
Item – Now go and say something gentle to HFF, who is on bed-rest. Which sucks. But Turbo’s still in there, which doesn’t. And the whole thing’s giving me palpitations.