Ain't life funny?

So here I am, day 34 and I got nothin'. My cycle is always all over the place, but it lures me into this false sense of possibility every time. Oooo...I'm a few days late, just perhaps.......few more days pass...nothing. ...week late...nothing. Pregnancy test. Pee on stick, nervously place stick across the bathroom, out of the direct line of sight. Glance at stick from distance while anxiously checking watch every 8 seconds. Talk to stick and God about how this really should be positive cos I'm just so damn deserving. Reason with God about how I'll be really good from now on and not secretly despise most people I come in contact with. Shout at stick to have two lines, because without shouting the stick might just decide to have one line. With trembling hands, approach stick trepidatiously with slow, sideways shuffle. Grab stick quickly, close one eye, and cover telling second line space with finger. Gradually slide finger off space....looking for pink line...even a faint one...uhhhh...no. Cue onset of period within 10 minutes. Go figure.

We all go through this regularly, while still having to deal with situations like I learned of today. I worked with a dim-witted woman that went on maternity leave last March, and she had a baby boy in April. She stops in to see us frequently with fat, squirming, flat-headed maggoty child in tow. The child has been beaten severely with the biggest ugly stick you ever did see, yet the others gather round and coo about how handsome he is. I hang around in the background trying to look unapproachable in the hopes that I will not be forced to come up with positive words about this creature. This woman always gushes about how she wants to be a young mum to many kids (she's 28) and how she wants her kids to be close in age. I figured that means two, perhaps three years. As I found out today, apparently that means a year and a few months.

As always, I am annoyed that it is so easy for some people, but I can't say that I'm upset this time. In this particular case the woman has now resigned herself to being a breeder, and as such has cheerily proclaimed that she will only work part-time from now on in undemanding jobs. To each their own and all that, but my resentment of the easily pregnant and my innate feminism clash constantly. I'm jealous of her for getting pregnant without any strife (how sick is that?), but yet I don't envy the fact that she has sacrificed a career for kids. I'm hoping that now she has the time to teach herself the difference between "too", "to", "you're" and "your" so I don't have to read any more cringeworthy emails. I am such a petty bitch when irritated. Apologies.