So last night I took a pregnancy test. Dad, Mom, if you're reading, take a deep breath now....and don't have a stroke - I am not pregnant (if I was I would have told you to sit down first ;-P). I've changed my contraceptive in the last few months, and scientifically it is not possible for me to be feeling the kicking of baby feet anytime soon, unless all the doctors and nurses are idiots and medical science does not work the way they say it does. However, since I did make a change, there was an irrational part of me that feared something would go wrong, as is normal anytime you break your routine. Once that tiny seed of doubt is planted, suddenly you see babies everywhere. I was getting hungry earlier in the mornings - must be the baby needing some nosh. My stomach was feeling harder and bigger - must be the baby growing at an alarming rate (I conveniently forgot that I have been working out a fair amount, so I actually have muscle there now, and definition which might account for the outward curve). So I took the plunge last night, in the bathroom at the pub during the RSPCA volunteers evening. And for that split second when I looked at the blue line - the second before I read the pamphlet so that I thought any line was a yes - my heart stopped and my world caved in around my ears. And then I read the instructions and saw it was a no and everything returned to normal - no round of applause or distant cheering. So really, it just confirmed what I knew all along, but what my subconscious was loathe to accept. Either I am very prudent, or my subconscious just likes drama. Anyway, there was the tiniest part of me, so infitesmal it nearly escaped my attention, that went, aaaah. Pity. It would have been kind of nice. In the world's worst way, of course. And then my Normal Self snatched back rationale from my Crazy Self and obliterated that thought completely. So I'm really just paying homage to my now deceased Crazy Self here - may she rest in peace. Everyone has moments of utter madness - that was mine.
As I mentioned, I was at a pub in Lewisham last night for an RSPCA New Volunteers Evening. Since I've been doing events with them for about 4 months now, I was asked along to give perspective from a volunteer's side, while the committee members did the presentations. It was a good night; some lovely people turned up and we had a couple of drinks and a chat. Until Mr Doos turned up and tried to ruin the night. Xen, who is an animal control officer, was talking about the kinds of calls he receives and the situations he deals with when a random dude sauntered up to our table and took a seat. He appeared to be interested in the whole spiel, so Xen continued with his presentation. Then Mr Doos and Mr Doos' even more doosy mate, Mr Superdoos, who had by then also oozed over to us, started attempting to play devil's advocate and trip Xen up. So he'd talk about why we leave cats up trees for the fire brigade to deal with, and the two dooses would start in on him: but that's animal cruelty, and you guys are supposed to stand for anti-cruelty - you don't even know what you're here for! And generally stupid things like that. They were both slurring to the point of slobbering, and generally behaving like typical bar louts, you get them in every pub. It all got too much for Mr Superdoos though, because Xen just answered politely and continued on with the talk. He spluttered incomprehensibly, whether from rage or a particularly big gulp beer was unclear, and eventually walked away, apparently bored with the lack of confrontation. Mr Doos remained to the end, and after a few more shit-stirring attempts, was actually persuaded by regional supervisor D to sign up! I'll be surprised if he even remembers today though.... with a bit of luck he'll think he's signed away something really valuable. We're doing a microchipping event tomorrow, and I have some ideas about getting the RSPCA involved with Beauty Without Cruelty for a drive towwards ethically produced cosmetics and beauty products, so I'm going to run them by D tomorrow. I'm a passionate supporter of cruelty-free consumables, and I think it stands to reason that an organisation like the RSPCA should be promoting it. Look at me, Lopz the Activist.
It's officially Shoes' last day Prima today, and his last ever as a waiter. From Monday onwards, he will be working 9 to 5 like the rest of us, with normal lunch breaks, surreptitious attempts at wasting company money with hours on the internet and accessible by e-mail all day! We include him in our e-mail chains at the moment so he doesn't ever feel left out, but it will be nice that he'll actually be able to read them now. He's going for drinks tonight, and then tomorrow is having a combined farewell party with another waiter's birthday, and will probably spend his last day before his new job with a mother of a hangover. For my part, I plan to spend a large amount of time this weekend watching Grey's, and topping up my tan fi the weather holds.
As for Neutrino, still no passport. We're hoping and praying his guardian angel is at work.
As I mentioned, I was at a pub in Lewisham last night for an RSPCA New Volunteers Evening. Since I've been doing events with them for about 4 months now, I was asked along to give perspective from a volunteer's side, while the committee members did the presentations. It was a good night; some lovely people turned up and we had a couple of drinks and a chat. Until Mr Doos turned up and tried to ruin the night. Xen, who is an animal control officer, was talking about the kinds of calls he receives and the situations he deals with when a random dude sauntered up to our table and took a seat. He appeared to be interested in the whole spiel, so Xen continued with his presentation. Then Mr Doos and Mr Doos' even more doosy mate, Mr Superdoos, who had by then also oozed over to us, started attempting to play devil's advocate and trip Xen up. So he'd talk about why we leave cats up trees for the fire brigade to deal with, and the two dooses would start in on him: but that's animal cruelty, and you guys are supposed to stand for anti-cruelty - you don't even know what you're here for! And generally stupid things like that. They were both slurring to the point of slobbering, and generally behaving like typical bar louts, you get them in every pub. It all got too much for Mr Superdoos though, because Xen just answered politely and continued on with the talk. He spluttered incomprehensibly, whether from rage or a particularly big gulp beer was unclear, and eventually walked away, apparently bored with the lack of confrontation. Mr Doos remained to the end, and after a few more shit-stirring attempts, was actually persuaded by regional supervisor D to sign up! I'll be surprised if he even remembers today though.... with a bit of luck he'll think he's signed away something really valuable. We're doing a microchipping event tomorrow, and I have some ideas about getting the RSPCA involved with Beauty Without Cruelty for a drive towwards ethically produced cosmetics and beauty products, so I'm going to run them by D tomorrow. I'm a passionate supporter of cruelty-free consumables, and I think it stands to reason that an organisation like the RSPCA should be promoting it. Look at me, Lopz the Activist.
It's officially Shoes' last day Prima today, and his last ever as a waiter. From Monday onwards, he will be working 9 to 5 like the rest of us, with normal lunch breaks, surreptitious attempts at wasting company money with hours on the internet and accessible by e-mail all day! We include him in our e-mail chains at the moment so he doesn't ever feel left out, but it will be nice that he'll actually be able to read them now. He's going for drinks tonight, and then tomorrow is having a combined farewell party with another waiter's birthday, and will probably spend his last day before his new job with a mother of a hangover. For my part, I plan to spend a large amount of time this weekend watching Grey's, and topping up my tan fi the weather holds.
As for Neutrino, still no passport. We're hoping and praying his guardian angel is at work.
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