Okay, today I got an unmistakably positive OPK, so yesterday was just a false-alarm of sorts.
We still did the deed, of course. This isn’t just sex; this is sex with someone who just had the entire upper-half of his right lung scraped about a month ago in a procedure known as a pleurectomy. As you can imagine, the operation and recovery were a wee bit painful. Last night he had to take some painkillers,
because damn!!! if I am not just that good!!! because he was not very comfortable. Poor guy. Mr. MC is a real trooper, especially considering my demands needs wants polite requests for sex-on-demand.
I am over the purse. I like it, I really do, but after seeing one of my students carrying it today (a sure-fire way to ruin anything for a professor), I realized that it is a little to bohemian for my
super-uptight anal retentive taste.
I think I got a positive OPK (it is well established that I am awful at reading the bloody things); if it isn’t positive, it is pretty darn close. Yes, I should have other things on my mind.
Instead, I am obsessive over a handbag.
Thoughts? [I tried to post a poll, but WordPress only wants me to use their poll, which, of course, costs money.]
While you are pondering the necessity of this obvious non-necessity, Mr. MC and I will be, well, you know (cue 70s porn music).