A finger-drumming kind of post, with no updates.

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!


23 responses to “A finger-drumming kind of post, with no updates.

  • bionicbrooklynite

    ooo, tell me about the astronomical phenomena in literature part. it will be a nice distraction from planning my classes. or writing anything myself.

    satsuma…sometimes it seems like you’re not really on our side, here. is this like a snape thing, where it turns out you were all along and were just a deep old file? better be.

    i will never unsubscribe, my dearest. (well, i think i’m not technically subscribed, but you’re in my heart AND my google reader.) i think of you every time i gaze upon our laundry matterhorn. and every time — which has been a lot of times, this week — i find myself murmuring, “harder, but not worse. harder, but not worse.”


    • May

      ‘Frankenstein’s Moon’ – http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b019fyqr No idea if it can be played in the States, what with licensing regulations. But the bit about tracking the moon so they could work out which night it WOULD have shone through Mary Shelley’s window and inspired ‘Frankenstein’ geeked me the heck out. As did the bit about Galileo showing his artist friend Cigoli the Moon through a telescope and Cigoli painting it, craters and all, in a religious work. Geeked. Out. With bells on.

      Satsuma is being inscrutable. I told her she’s not nearly as sexy as Alan Rickman and I think she may be sulking.

      I’ve managed a laundry Matterhorn of my own, now. I look at it and I think, ‘there’s only TWO of us. For the love of… how do two continent ADULTS manage to create so much laundry? Eh? EH?’ Answer comes there none.

  • katyboo1

    Oscar and I are holed up at home. He is recovering from being ill. I am recovering from 12 hour migraine which socked me last night as a surprise. 3 in one week. Gah! He is colouring in dinosaurs and watching cartoons. I am reading books and blogs and hugging hot water bottles and tea. Cat is doing ballet on kitchen table. It’s rather peaceful. A bit like the calm after the storm. Enjoy your peace and quiet.xxx

  • twangy

    Totally, totally to the kettle, May. With you all the way.
    Have a good rest.

  • Valery

    Unsubscribing…I didn’t know your blog told you these kind of things. Does it also tell you that I check almost every day to see if you posted again? And did you get the picture I tried to send in the email?

    • May

      Email? Must check email at once! I haven’t checked it for days I am BAD and WICKED and don’t deserve to have people emailing me at all at all. I am so sorry.

  • a

    I subscribe through Google Reader, and they often have different subscriber stats then the pages themselves. I never check my stats though. I don’t really like a lot of attention.

    I am braving the ice from last night’s storm to do a bunch of stuff while I wait for my opportunity to return the favor of being passive-aggressive to my in-laws. I hate that sort of thing, but that doesn’t stop me from being a master.

    Enjoy having the house to yourself!

    • May

      I TRY not to check my stats – it seems to be such a needy, whiny thing to do (do you love me? Do you? Do you? How ’bout now?) – but I occasionally find myself peeking anyway and, eh, oops, now I shall flail about it.

      Re: passive-aggressive thing, well, THEY started it… What can you do but be a good daughter-in-law and join in their passtimes with a will?

  • Lulu

    I’m still here : )

  • korechronicles

    I won’t be leaving anytime soon. Too much Satsuma bashing to be done. Onward and upward to the kettle!

    • May

      When I am finally made a Dame for services as-yet-unspecified to the grateful nation, I shall have an argent kettle rampant on my coat-of-arms.

  • Erin

    Don’t think that I’m technically subscribed, but do check in with at least weekly frequency… hope that you enjoy the down time. And seriously, Sats, get it together!

  • Katie

    I vote for some emo poems.
    I’m a Google Reader user as well.

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    *Satsuma jumps guiltily*
    *points two forked fingers at own eyes; jabs a single digit, forcefully, towards Satsuma*
    *Paddington Bear Stare*

    Don’t try it on, lovey. Just don’t. I know where you live.

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