Well, nothing yet. Which is not surprizing to me, as it seems that I notice spotting internally long before I actually start bleeding. And here I always thought my body doesn’t give me signals.

The other major signal my body is sending out is major bitchitis. All week I have been THE biggest bitch in the entire world. I’m generally okay at work, and I felt very good doing the grocery shopping this morning. But soon as I get home? I just turn into Ms. Crankipants Extrordinaire. A part of that may be because my kitchen is a literal disaster – we’re remodelling and the state of everything is driving me nuts. We seriously need to start cleaning up and putting things back when we’re done for the day… I have no room to work, there’s stuff all over the counter, I have to sweep the floor of crud about 10 times a day, and I can’t get to the kitty litter boxes to clean them. Gah.

But regardless of that… my temper is getting up at everything. Especially poor Den. I say poor Den because I fully realize that 99% of the time I’m totally overreacting and he doesn’t deserve it. (The other 1% he fully deserves to be smacked.) I tripped over the laundry basket yesterday just after fixing myself a pb&j sandwich. I dropped half the sandwich on the floor. I threw a fit. Not at anything in particular – though I did toss the laundry basket in a thunk to the other side of the room. I spent all this time fixing the perfect pb&j, cut in quarters – on the diagonal! – and I drop it on the damn floor.

And this is me before I start the medications. This is rediculous.

It’s unfortunate that I need to work this weekend (at my home office), because I’m totally craving an all-for-Natalie day. I might even…. shave. Yes I know, shocking. (Last time I shaved my legs was months and months ago. And it caused me to suffer incredible itching for two weeks. NOT my idea of fun. I bought a new shaver and shaving cream today, fingers crossed it helps or Den may never let me wear shorts again.) Too bad our bathtub doesn’t work for baths.