This is my actual, current, real life water glass (well, technically it’s plastic, not glass, but we are not hear to discuss what a shitty environmentalist I am).* As the trite expression goes, you will see that it is half-empty. Perhaps more like two-thirds empty. But not totally empty, because that would be too simple.
You see, floating around in the back of my head are all the stories. You know the ones. We totally gave up trying, because we thought it would never work for us/it was too late/it was too early/she got sick/Mercury was in retrograde/etc. and lo! and behold! That was the time we got pregnant!
I really, really wish my glass was empty, but I can’t help holding out a liiiiiiiiiiittle hope that it actually maybe did work this month. Even though I know it didn’t! Still. Which means the fog has crept back in just a little, as I try to remind myself not to be optimistic — not at all — because we actually know that this time we inseminated too early, and we therefore know that we aren’t pregnant.
This is why you actually take a month off. Hello, April, I am looking at you. Because even if you tell yourself it didn’t work, and even if you know, deep down, that it didn’t, someone keeps sneaking up and pouring just an inch or two of water in your glass when your head is turned. Which means it really sucks when the end of the month comes, and you knock that glass over, and it drenches a stack of mail that someone left on the counter.
* Although we are also not here to discuss how neat and tidy I am, do you see how clean my desk at work is? That is because I moved all my confidential lawyer-type documents out of the picture for internet posting purposes. Note the eraser crumbs around the bottom of the glass. That is a bit more accurate when it comes to visualizing my workspace. Yep, I’m a pencil writer. At least they are not food crumbs.