I've been a crappy blog buddy, and there's absolutely no reason for it. Well, except for work, remodeling, yada, yada, yada.
I guess I kind of feel like I have nothing to say while I'm in TTC limbo. I don't know why, but I'm even procrastinating with that. I'm supposed to take Provera, then after AF comes take BC pills for a month, but I still haven't even called in the prescriptions that were called in before I left for Flo*rida. I'm trying to time it so that I won't have AF when I'm in the Ba*hamas at the end of the month, but instead of trying to figure out the timing, I guess it's been easier for me just to ignore it. Maybe I'm scared of having another cancelled cycle, or maybe the idea of the nightly needle-poking isn't so appealing the second time around. Who knows. I know I *have* to get this cycle started, but something just keeps holding me back. Hopefully I snap out of it, whatever "it" is.
Anyway, I had a great time on vacation. It was short, but much-appreciated. And I got a tan, which is always a good thing. Nothing spectacular happened while I was there, oh, except for the little boy who was in the bathroom with his mother. He comes up to me and says "You can't go on the Jaws ride since you have a baby in your belly." Great. Just what I needed. I wanted to scream, laugh, and cry all at once. While I was embarrassed the kid thought I was pregnant, I'll admit that I wanted more than anything at that moment for him to be right. Of course the PG test I took afterwards failed me, as it always does, and blared a big, fat, negative line in it's usual harsh way.