Today was a much better day. I mean, yeah, I had only one assistant and a puking student but, overall, it was ok. At least I wasn't crying and fighting with my wife.
Anyway, here we are at 8 DPIUI. I feel nothing. Nothing at all. How awesome is that? I started testing out my trigger this week. It's almost gone.
Jesus. These are the most entertaining status reports on earth.
I'm tired of this. I'm tired of fighting with my body. I'm tired of not trusting it. I'm tired of seeing my life fly by in two-week chunks. I'm tired of putting life on pause to accommodate my ovulation schedule. I'm tired of this holding pattern.
Please, please...... deities, powers that be, gods, spirits, beings, ghosties ..... please let this be it.
Things SC Said To Me:
-"I hate smoking crack."
-"I am your godfather."
-"You should have a baby" (from the mouths of babes wheelchair bound adults with cerebral palsy and moderate mental retardation)
Technique Developed:
The diagonal, shoulder-scratch, discreet, boob-squeeze: Just one arm and reach over to the opposite shoulder to scratch a fake itch. You can use the crook of your elbow to perform a discreet boob grope to check for soreness in elevators with cameras. The security guard probably thinks I should see a dermatologist... or that I have scabies.
Response from the 8-Ball:
"Signs point to yes."
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