Of course I’m not … you know …

I mean, I’m almost 49. My womb has been razed to the ground by a metal device heated to 180C. It’s more barren than Donald Trump’s heart.

But, there’s something about your mum saying “maybe you’re pregnant” that makes an anxious over thinker anxiously over think.

Especially when your medically trained significant other (who doesn’t anxiously over think things) suggests we drop by the late night chemist.

Don’t be ridiculous!

As if that’s necessary.

Yesterday, when I told my workplace wingwoman that my boobs were still killing me after our Australia Day looooooong weekend, she gaped and said: “Still! It’s been weeks! Why didn’t you tell me! I was just at the chemist getting my prescription, I could have picked you up a pregnancy test.”

My as if that’s necessary protestations were getting a bit feeble by that point.

But commonsense still told me it was ridiculous.

And, thank the lord, commonsense was right.

I emerged from the bathroom victorious last night – the crimson tide had arrived!

It topped off the evening nicely … which is not something I’ve ever said about the red moon rising.

But DD and I had such a nice, low-key night.

It was a total stinker in Sydney yesterday, so I headed up to his place for a swim. We had a lovely splash, sipped a cider on the sand, then headed back to his place to barbecue some meat on a stick and sit nattering on his back deck. At 9pm we cracked out the duelling electronic devices to hit the Hub Productions website and try to get the eldest tickets for “All Hell Breaks Loose 8.”

AHBL8 is a Supernatural convention being held in Melbourne in May. The eldest is currently saving up $190 to have her photograph taken with one of the stars. Tickets were supposed to go on sale last night, but buggered if I could find them on the site when I finally got on on – it kept crashing due to thousands of Supernatural geeks trying to access it all at once.

At one point I even roped the ex onto an electronic device remotely for his advice. He helpfully texted: “Can confirm that dodgy would-I-buy-something-from-this-website website only has platinum and VIP tickets.”

Platinum and VIP tickets are thousands of dollars each. Far out! People pay that?

Finally, at 10pm, I struck gold … well, at least, regular $190 tickets to the convention.

So it was rather late by the time I finally tottered through my front door last night.

Yawn.

But totally worth the trip.

Song of the day: Crowded House “When you come”

 

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7 thoughts on “Of course I’m not … you know …

  1. Yep, been there done that. Actually got the stick to pee on even though I know the chances are next to none. It’s something to chuckle about afterwards, you know that relieved how-could-I-have-been-so-silly chuckle 🙂

  2. My uterus went the way of American sanity many years ago so no sticks needed here. Isn’t it amazing the lengths we go to to see smiles on the kids’ faces. Good on you!

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