I like work. It fascinates me. I sit and look at it for hours.

The last few days can be summariesed in the following few words. Stress, work, stress, work, more work, baby attempts and that Friday feeling! A long, long chat was had with the kid on Wedensday night. Somethings were explained that she might not have been or was not interested enough
in to care about. She appeared to take it and chez titch is a happier home once more. Thank god. She's off to the doctor this evening and is getting her perscription for the pill. One headache down, 10 to go. I wonder if I made a tape and played it every night to her whilst she was asleep along
the lines of how bad sex is for you and you may die if you ever sleep with someone again? A tad harsh?

Maybe. Family meetings over, its time to get pregnant. Yes, nicely squeezed in there between family meetings and work. On with the mood. I perhaps am one of the few people who considers a syringe a sex toy. I lead a sheltered life, okay? Par example, oral sex? Up until the tender age of 24, I assumed it was a bunch of people sitting around talking about sex.

Our man had a hot date so he did his thang and left. We were only going to have one attempt as the early morning he had planned wasn't going to work for us but as it turns out he ended up leaving later so we thought ah sure feck it. You never know, it could be the one. Domestic bliss as the kid legs it from the toilet, he heads into the bathroom, Mammy2 is making her lunch and I'm writing her a note as to why she was absent for the 2 previous days. The kid is dispatched, our man leaves, its on with the Barry White music and baby making. If this attempt isn't successful, I may take a trip to the doc and see what's going on. Or perhaps it might be because I haven't started drinking green tea. Mainly because I don't believe it has magic baby making abilities, much like that article during the week about women who eat roast potatoes are more likely to get pregnant? Please? I should be dropping sproglets every 5 minutes if that was the case.

I got a phone call from the uncle in england today. I haven't heard from him in eons and I assumed he was after something. I was right. He needs me to get a copy of his birth cert and send it him so he can get his passport. I made the mistake of asking where his passport ended up. Long story involving it being 'stolen' not sold and what not. He is such a shyster. You know Delboy in Only Fools and Horses, he has nothing on this character. He's the bad boy of the family. I get along with him, in small doses. He is the funny uncle and the one you always end up telling stories. I suppose he was also the closest thing to a father figure I had when we moved from the family home to live with the grandparents. Its amazing I turned out as responsible as I did with him as a role model.

I found out that I have to work over the christmas AND I'm on call. Pants to that. In fairness on call just involves leaving the phone off. I only ever got a call once and it was a mistake. Granted, the support person didn't realise this until I was in work and at my PC. 10 o'clock of a Sunday morning. But its Christmas! And I want to put up the decorations in here, the boss has been been very understanding and agreed. But one of the guys wants us to wait until Monday as he has some decorations he wants to bring in. So I'll hold off for a while. Just about! I asked the receptionist when was the tree going up and she said that she'd ask Facilities and see what the sceal is. Apparently, I wasn't the first to ask.

* assumes smug face *
So there's another person out there who's more into christmas then me. Who knew? Along with christmas comes the efforts of the guards to ensure traffic jams, I mean traffic flow. Operation Freeflow. I love it because there's a female guard at most junctions. They are so cute. And pocket sized. Seriously that height restriction must have been dropped as soon as I decided I didn't want to become a guard. I'm glad now. Because its quite hard to have a fantasy about a uniform that you have to iron every morning. That's probably an overshare.

The kid has three weeks and then she's off on holidays for the christmas. If she survives until then and the art teacher hasn't killed her in the meantime. They've come to blows again and she's going to the vice-principle to give out about her. Some day we will have a full week in school with no incidents. Granted, it will be when she's finished. She's also off to Holland for the new year. Seven days without her around. I think a break will do us all good but with the last year I cannot wait for a break :)