Today was a stressful day. It ended very good (as good as can be), but it was super, super stressful for me.

First I was stressed about work at my client’s. Turned out that went just fine, if a little oddly. So my stress diminished during the day and I was just looking forward to going home.

Right before it was time for me to leave I felt… something. You know that feeling when AF starts? That dripping, wet feeling? That. I started to worry. A lot. It wasn’t until I had actually left, though, that I really started panicking. My undies still felt very wet, and I kept telling myself it was just prometrium. But I wanted to check. I needed to check. It was all I could think about.

I had to buy dog food while I was out, so I tried to do it quickly. That backfired in a big way. First I had to return to my truck to get my purse which I’d forgotten, then I had to go back to the parking lot to get a cart. I bought the dog food, threw it in my truck as it started raining, shoved the cart back into the cart-return, and took off. Over and over in my head were horrible thoughts of bleeding. For some reason I reached for my phone – maybe to call Den? – and realized my purse isn’t here. I swerved into a parking lot alongside the road and dug through my truck… not there. I’d left my freaking purse in the parking lot!!!!

So I went racing back, now freaking out about TWO things. I got there, checked the carts, checked beside where I was parked… my purse is not there. I ran inside…. and then I saw it, sitting in a cart beside a cashier. She said, “This your purse?” I said yes and thank you, thank you, thank you. She said the little old lady standing at the counter brought it inside. I thanked her, too, profusely. And then raced out the door.

When I got home – a good half-hour’s drive home, I might add – I dropped everything and ran into the bathroom. I had worked myself up into a full-blown panic picturing miscarriage and blaming myself for not taking my prometrium pills exactly 8 hours apart. But it was prometrium! Just like I SHOULD have known it was. But SHOULD have doesn’t mean diddly squat when you’re terrified like I was. Not a speck of spotting, thank god.

And my boobs are still veiny.

In other news, Den is now trying to talk me out of taking a pregnancy test in the morning. He thinks, if I’m going to test, I should do it when I get back from getting my blood drawn. (It’s a half-hour drive there and half-hour back.) I think he’s worried about me being alone in a car after a bad result. But I’m not so certain that being alone in a car and not knowing will be any better. Just look at what happened to me today – I was NOT all the way with it at all.

So Den’s *brilliant* idea (sarcasm) is that I can POAS before I leave if I want to but I am not to wake him up. He said if he told me to wake him up if it were positive but not if it was negative, then if he woke up and I was gone he’d know. But what kind of idiotic solution is that? WTF? I mean, if he was really overly concerned about me he could go WITH me to get my blood drawn. (He’s not going in to work tomorrow – he has a doctor’s appointment after I get back, then we have the day together.) So either way I’m waking him up if it’s positive. I’m sorry, but I am posting online right away and I am NOT going to let my husband be the LAST to know!!

He can be such a weirdo sometimes.

I’m actually counting down the hours now. 2 more hours until I can go to bed. Then I just try to sleep until morning – or as late as I possibly can before getting up to empty my bladder onto one of those magical little sticks. (And it had better damnwell be magical this time.)