I was hoping the psycho demons might leave while I was curled up in bed last night. Did they, fuck! I think they might be here to stay. I complained to my sister (via email, of course.) She told me to eat chocolate. I looked at the half-eaten KitKat on the desk, and couldn't even be bothered to eat the rest of it.
This is not a good sign.
Given that I am for once willing to blame my hormones for the foulness that is currently my mood, I started getting a little paranoid. I'm always careful, but I've heard too many horror stories over the years... I knew I had a spare pregnancy test in the first aid box (last scare, I bought a pack of two), so though I would rule that out. It's not exactly rocket science, but I was still slightly worried I wasn't following the instructions correctly. Then I thought of some of the lab protocols I have to follow on a regular basis. With some amusement, I figured if I can mess with nucleic acids, I could probably manage to piss on a stick.
It was negative. Which means I'm just being an insufferable bitch.
Ho hum.
I did, however, finally manage to get on one of the two computers in my office. The squatters have actually taken to logging themselves off when they are done. I should slam doors more often...
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