Like I mentioned earlier this week, work has just gotten crazy. We’ve won a lot of new business, which is obviously great for the company, but it’s almost to the point that two people can’t do the work anymore. The head of our region told my boss and I that “We should hire a third marketing person before the two of [us] die.” Yes, yes — that would be nice.
I’m also having laptop issues at home. I turn my laptop on and it shows the startup menu and then three-fourths of the time just sits and stares at me with a blank, black screen. I have to reboot to get it to even start up. Wrut wroh. Possibly not much life left on this one, Dell! I’m not a Dell fan, and in fact would much rather ditch my PC all together and get a Mac, but we use PCs at work and I like to have my Adobe programs on my computer at home too (InDesign, Photoshop, Dreamweaver, etc.)
Anywhoooo….those are my excuses. Here’s what’s really been going down this week.
Hubby and I continue to try regularly, as I have no clue when I’m going to be ovulating or did ovulate, if indeed it has happened. (Last cycle it was day 28!) We are now on day 26 and I have no clue if I’ve ovulated or not, if I am anywhere near my period or a possible positive test, or what. It’s kind of frustrating having no clue what’s going on with my body, but I’m sure my cycle will regulate itself soon enough. In the meantime, trying regularly has been enough for us. Now I’m just dying to take a pregnancy test, but I’m sure it ‘s too soon.
I’ve been having strange dreams about pregnancy. The other night I dreamed I took a test and thought it read “Pregnant” until I tilted it in the other direction and noticed the word “Not” in front of that. Oops! Then I had a dream that I was fostering eight rambunctious and wild children from the ages of 2 to probably 16. (One thing I haven’t told you yet, I don’t think, is that hubby and I will eventually want to adopt children too. But that’s more for another day.)
Obviously babies are on the brain. And then yesterday, the woman who works in our building and also cleans our place every couple weeks ran into me on the elevator and asked, “Are you pregnant?” I immediately said, “no, no,” and self consciously put my hand on my stomach, wondering if my recent lack of dedicated workouts is beginning to show.
“Do I look like it?” I said.
“Oh, no, no,” she said, and got off at her stop.
I’m wondering if perhaps she’s noticed the half dozen or so books I’ve collected on the topic while cleaning our place, but I keep them hidden behind others in my basket of books by the bed. I’d like to think instead that perhaps she has some Honduran magic going on and just knows. Now wouldn’t that be neat?