That's what I've been lately.
I haven't shaved my head and flashed my junk at the paparazzi (seriously, why? why? would this seem like a good idea for any reason?), but for a working girl who can't have no babies living in the 'burbs, I've done things that could be equivalents.
- losing it (not the crying kind, the getting frustrated kind) in a meeting at work over nothing - really.
- subsequently getting chewed out in front of everyone at said meeting
- I don't think it was as bad as I thought, several people slapped me on the back and said "You've got a set!" Or maybe for this reason it was as bad as I thought? Who knows and who cares. Oh, me.
- considered walking out while humming "Take This Job and Shove It"; but realized I love too many things about my job to leave. Oh, and I need the money.
- trying to explain to D why I don't want to have sex with him anymore and actually using the phrase "It's not you, it's me." I used to have quite the desire for sexy time, so this is a tough one to explain.
- talking to myself in the car and gesticulating wildly, enough to draw the attention of several people stopped along with me at the red light. On more than one day.
- moving from the depths of despair and then to giddy happiness. All.day.long.
This IVF has got to start soon. Of course, in the true fashion of all things I still have one more test that must be repeated - a sonohystogram (spelling anyone? I don't know about this. Something doesn't look right, but you know what I mean). Which as many of you know, can only be done on certain days of a cycle, and they only had one appointment available in the middle of the day this time. I couldn't get away from work for several reasons. I know you're thinking "Priorities!" but I don't want to compromise work for this even more than I'm going to in a few weeks. So it's out and we wait one more cycle. And mine are unpredictable. Dammit.