Update: Holy crap, this is my 100th post! ::throws confetti in the air:: Yay! 100 posts of some whiny infertile bitch complaining about her petty first world problems!! LOL
My temperature pattern is sending poor FF into fits. Today it changed my ovulation date for the 3rd time! Initially it had told me CD11 (and with solid cross-hairs no less - a luxury I rarely get!). After entering a few more temps, it switched to CD13. It stuck with that idea for about a week and then this morning? CD11 again. I'm not quite sure why it can't seem to make up its mind. I don't know if it was the big dip and slow rise I experienced in my temps over the past few days, or maybe the spotting. Who knows. All I know is, I am expecting this to be the shortest cycle EVAR! Like, not even 30 days. Its pretty crazy-pants.
Some of you had mentioned that clomid can help with luteal phase spotting and I hope that's the case for me. Aside from being a very early sign that a cycle most likely did not work, its just really obnoxious to deal with. M would be very happy if there was no more luteal phase spotting as I am disinclined to acquiesce to sexy-time when I feel gross.
Speaking of M, he continues to receive bad news followed by good news. Well, this time the bad news was entirely his fault: he did not turn in his timecard on time and therefore we get to wait until the *next* payday to get his check. Great. Dumbass. We needed that money. But we will just borrow from our savings account (again) and pay it back when we get 2 paychecks in one. The good news is that he has another interview! With a big company that has very important defense contracts! And which accidentally exploded a while ago!.... okay, that last part is not very good news. Apparently, the facility he is interviewing to work at is designed specifically for explosives. I don't even want to know what kind of government research is going on there. A job is a job at this point.
So that's what's going on with me. Big Brother starts Thursday ::bites fist in anticipation:: so that should be sufficient to distract me until AF arrives and I can call Dr. B's office. And get back on the clomid train to crazy-town!