Why, yes, I DID just shove all my french fries into my milkshake.

And I ate it all with my fingers, because there wasn't a spoon handy and I didn't care one bit.

The past few days have been rough. I've been cramping like I haven't cramped in, well, 8 years. Sure, they were bad when I had the medically induced trick-your-body periods brought on by the birth control pills. These, though, are the first honest-to-God cramps I've had in 8 years that have come naturally. It's not fun. And I'm a hormonal train wreck. Poor Tim. Very poor Tim. He's been a saint like you wouldn't believe. Still no actual menstruation, which is incredibly frustrating considering everything. Conveniently, this happens right before I go to the doctor on Monday to discuss all the various mutations my body has decided to come up with.

Today was particularly rough. My cousin's wife (they got married less than a month ago) wrote me a message on the all-powerful and all-knowing Facebook to tell me she is pregnant. She didn't know how far along she was, but yay she's having a baby. I'm thrilled for them. I really am. I'm also bummed for myself and cried. I knew  she was pregnant when I saw her at the wedding rehearsal. The joys of having "psychic" super-powers. I can pick up on pregnancies even before a pregnancy test will. Would be great if I could reliably market my lucrative skill-set to infertile women during the infamously trying Two Week Wait. Except, I can't. And I wouldn't. She says she's due in August. That would put her at, like, all of three days pregnant. She's closer to 5 weeks by my guesstimation. She'll have that kid by the end of June, definitely before the end of July. My other cousin's (this one's brother) wife is due in January. I'm a little more excited for them. Both this guy and his wife are mature enough to handle the new kid. Granted, there are two step-children involved, but still...the recently married pair make me uneasy around kids. I could be completely wrong. I really could. Maybe they will grow up in the next several months. This unease and apprehension really doesn't stem out of jealousy. I am jealous, but I don't wish them harm. I just wish I weren't broken. I'm praying that come Monday, there will be definite steps in the right direction for me. I want little ones. My own little ones. All of this coupled with hormones I haven't dealt with in large quantities since I was about 19 years old was a little much for me to bear. I broke down sobbing.

Thankfully, Tim is such a great husband and my crazy dogs are such great dogs. I mean, my Great Dane is even keeping my spot on the bed warm for me! How sweet is that? (Do you sense sarcasm? I don't...not at all). I am glad for them and their crazy and goofy antics full of pure and unadulterated unconditional love.

Long drive tomorrow to be in the town where my doctor is, I've hurt for three days steady. It is time for bed. Tchus.