I got dressed up, went to a party, and left the party early so I could come home and shoot myself in the tuchus with an extraordinarily large needle. Aren't you jealous?
Yes, it's trigger shot night-- 36 hours before Monday's retrieval. Of course, I'm worried I did it wrong. But no way to know that right now, I guess.
Driving home from the party, I thought about why I'm doing this. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I wonder, and that I doubt sometimes the road I'm on. I'm old, I'm single, my job is precarious (and could be even more so if I actually get pregnant; we've been bought by a conservative organization, and I'm in a fairly visible role)...
Sometimes, you stay on a path because you're too stubborn to abandon that path. That's not it entirely, but it's part of it, for sure. And I suspect the doubt is because side effects from all the drugs caught up with me today, in terms of extreme exhaustion. Never think Big Life Thoughts when you can barely stay awake.
Speaking of which, I think it's time for bed. Entertaining, since I got 8+ hours last night, and had a nearly two hour nap this afternoon (unplanned-- I just sort of fell over). Like I said, side effects.
The glamorous, romantic life of me. Hold back your jealousy, please.