Surprise!

Ok - the world has turned upside down in a comedy of errors I was never prepared for.
At the same time that I met someone special, I was still knocking boots occasionally with BUB.
About the time Mr Right & I decided we should do something serious about our feelings & shed the baggage, well, turns out BUB & I might have had one 'one last time' one time too many.

I'm pregnant.
More than that though. I'm 14 weeks pregnant.

Let me explain. I'm not one of those Amish tweenies who doesn't know how it all works.
It's just, well, I don't have normal periods & I've been seriously sick in the past 'down there' so when the periods stopped but the two pregnancy tests came back negative (two! count 'em two!) and after all, we used condoms, I just assumed the worst.
And the worst meant seeing a doctor, which is difficult to organise when your GP is muslim & won't touch anything below the tonsils but you can't drive the hour & a half to an alternative medical centre because you work six days a week and you have two kids to pick up after school for basketball/cricket/scouts/dance/insert activity here.

Then, still no periods, and I started to bruise for no reason. And I was teary & tired and obviously something was wrong so I took the afternoon off & made the drive...but then the GP I was scheduled to see got called into surgery and no one else was available.
So two weeks later I finally get in to see a GP & she's only booked me in for the normal appointment but yes, with my history, it does sound like what I'm expecting but we'll do all the tests just to be sure.
And so, the next day, half way between a meeting with grain cooperative shareholders and the local mining alliance I get a phone call from the medical receptionist who has news that I need to know but she really doesn't want to have to tell me but the GP is already on holidays and...WHAM!

I mean, I thought I was dying. Seriously dying. I'd sorted out my will & let my parents know who would raise my kids & that I wanted to be an organ donor but this?
Jeez, I was prepared for bad news - but I don't even know what kind of news this is?

I found myself crying in a running car on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere - breaking up with the bloke I was half in love with over the phone and breaking the news to the less-than-impressed father on a mobile phone.

I'm 35. I'm having a baby on my own. I'm absolutely terrified.

Achieving my goals...

In keeping with the spirit of the front line management training I am due to fly interstate for at 6am Monday morning, I have made myself a list of jobs that need to be done before I can head out.
I was so tired this week after not only getting the paper out as usual, but trying to achieve all the jobs on my list that when I finally woke up in the morning I had a list of six or seven booty texts on both my phones that I had simply slept through.

I still haven't finished Item 1: washing all the bedding or Item 4. packing the kids' clothes but I quite enjoyed putting a big red line through Item 7: putting Back-up Boy firmly in his place one last time before having mad, crazy goodbye sex on Friday

One more box...ticked!

A word to the unwise...

There are some very sexy things a man can do with a Mars Bar & a willing woman.
My advice to you...never EVER try and substitute a Snickers Bar.
To understand why, buy one & suck on it for a while. I will say no more...

Repeat after me…

NEVER blog drunk!

Bottom of the chocolate box...

I was discussing with Geek_Girl how I haven't slept with anyone in a long time and I can honestly say it's because I'm not interested in anyone I know – not because I've run out of options.

She suggested that that's like saying you've stopped eating chocolates because the box is empty...or because there's only the crusty pralines and turkish delight left on the bottom tier.

Read between the lines...

Suddenly here is another ex-lover chatting away to me on email.

Don't they get it? When I say 'I understand, let's be friends'...after they DUMP me…what I really mean is 'your ongoing presence is a constant reminder of my perceived inadequacies and I wish you'd disappear or at least be publicly and completely unhappy without me'.

Duh!

It's all over now...

I recently realized that I've had my quota of good sex and there is no more good sex out there in the world for me to have any more.

So sad…

I can't believe that a grown man can get to this age and not know what goes where under the covers?
Don't you guys grow up reading porn and watching movies - shouldn't that count as instructional material?

I never knew that there was such a thing as bad sex until after I split up with my husband - if I'd know about this quota thing I would have saved it up for the NEXT 10 years not the last 10.

Why do bad boys fuck like tigers and good men kiss like serial killers?