Fuck and alas

Negative pee-stick yesterday. This morning my temperature had fallen. I had just got into the shower when the old waterproof radio fell down and clipped me on the ankle. To my horror, I found myself flinging it into the hallway and fleeing to the bedroom in tears.

And then I couldn’t stop crying. I tried and tried to get myself together, finish my shower, get some goddamn clothes on, and I just couldn’t. H sat next to me, rubbing my shoulders helplessly, looking worried, bless him.

H tried to keep my chin up by pointing out it wasn’t over yet. This cycle has another couple of days to run. My temperature could’ve been low because I had been snoring with my mouth open before the alarm went off (oh. How embarrassing). It didn’t really work. I kept right on crying, and eventually wailed something incoherent about there being no point, no point at all, in going through this, month after month, for nothing, and worse than nothing.

After which, there was not much more to be said.

I have a splitting headache, and my lower bowel is… overactive. Which made it easier on my conscience to take a duvet day. I don’t know if being at home alone all day was a good idea or a bad, but I still cannot stop crying.

And I owe H a new shower-radio.


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