You Can't Make an Omelet Without Releasing an Egg

In baby-attempts news, there was most definitely some sort of Ovulation Party going on last week. The CM was nice and stretchy and egg-whitey and ready to receive diced green peppers, ham, onions, and sperm, and there was some cramping. I went ahead and only did one little half-hearted attempt, since I started getting a bit nervous about taxing my system, and thought it really might be best after all if the employees had a month off to recuperate. I figure it was a good sign that things were pretty much back to normal though, so I’m anxious to do a hard-core push (ha ha) next month. A little teensy part of me (the crazy part, which I guess is technically more like 90% of me) kinda hopes that maybe, just maybe, since the odds are so small anyhow, that the itty bitty attempt coulda been successful. And then I go back to, ‘well, it’s for the best if not, because that’s a LOT of rollercoastering hormones in a very short time’, and I don’t know how many more stabbins’ I can avoid from Quiet if I continue on my raging lunatic sprees.

In work news, I started my new position officially on Monday so am spending the week in beautiful upstate Boston, where it’s like 852 degrees cooler than North Carolina, which is a nice break. We did lunch in New Hampshire, which was kinda neat because I think that was my first time in that state. The new Girl Boss actually so far seems to be pretty decent. I’m worried of course about what she thinks of me – it’s been a while since I’ve had to get up early and stay focused all day long, and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of not getting a slightly glazed expression starting at around 3:30 in the afternoon. Plus, I keep staring at her tits. No, seriously, she wears these low-necked tops and she has just terrific, slightly freckled cleavage. I hope she doesn’t think I’m totally gay for her. Or, if she does, that it’s advantageous for me at review time and I don’t have to go downstairs.

In M&M news, there is a new delicious raspberry limited-edition 6-week engagement ruby-red M&M on the market. Apparently they aren’t everywhere yet, but they are most certainly at Hannaford in Chelmsford, MA. I have to buy a million packs and freeze them, because I can think of a trillion things I can put them in at Christmas. Mostly my mouth. Totally check them out, they're tasty. And fruity!

In home news, there are zero updates. There is also zero patience left for Loud, zero hope of ever selling, zero options left available, and soon-to-be zero dollars left in my bank account after I freak out and go rent a seedy motel room so I can get the hell out of there before another day goes by. If only I had a dollar for every time someone has said to me in the last two months, ‘Boy, this is a terrible market to be trying to sell’ I'd be able to afford the motel. Quiet and I are fed up with Loud's asinine friends being there, and it makes me bitter because he wouldn't have a nice house to invite people over to if, well, I'm sure you get the idea. But in good news, I introduced myself to Loud's boss since I'm at the corporate office, and made sure to tell him that Loud really wanted to move to Boston AND travel a lot more. I actually giggled to myself as I walked back to my temporary desk. See, I can be evil when I'm not hormonal!