Fridays that are fall on the 13th of the month (or 13ths of the month that fall on Fridays?) are historically good days for me.
Except that time in ’93 when a blizzard ruined my 11th birthday and trapped me at a friend’s house for nearly a week while her mom cooked vegetable soup on a kerosene heater so we wouldn’t starve or freeze to death.
And no, I wasn’t born on a Friday the 13th. But I did turn 16 on a Friday the 13th. And some other age I can’t remember, too.
28. That was it.
Today didn’t suck.
Maybe it was my power of positive thinking this morning.
Maybe it was me asking Kate to send me some e-strength today and her being the best bestie I’ve never actually met and doing it with no questions asked.
Maybe it was the FOUR negative OPKs I’ve had this week which are a big ol’ middle finger to that doctor with the NIH fellowship. (Honest to God, do you know how awkward it is to have to hid a pee stick in your pocket to use AT WORK? Way more awkward than a tampon, that’s for sure. Way.)
Today was better.
And then I got a headache and an upset stomach. And my teeth hurt.
But my husband brought home wine and there are cookies in the pantry.
Soooo, good again?
I think so.
Then there’s this piece of awesome.
Why, yes. That IS yogurt all over his face. It so is. And, I mean, why NOT, right?
Gah. That kid makes me happy.