I took a pregnancy test. I'm an idiot.
After months of resisting them, thinking: "I'll know when my period comes, no need to waste money on those things," today I make a special detour to go to a Duane Read and pick up a test. Or three. Actually I went to two Duane Reads. One didn't seem to have any, and also didn't have any airconditioning. I started to wonder if it was against the pharmacist's religion to stock them or something, and gave up looking for them when I started to sweat uncontrollably. Then I wandered down 5th Avenue, bought myself a Mint Frappucino (who suggested this? I know I read it one of your blogs. I wasn't convinced), then wandered down rather than up Madison Avenue, convinced there must be another Duane Read somewhere near.
Having visited a few side streets, and admired the collection of town cars outside Bear Sterns, I spotted a much more upmarket Duane Read somewhere near 45th Street. I went in and wandered, and again couldn't find the tests. They weren't near the sanitary products - which is where they usually are in the UK by the way - but after some wandering I spotted a "family planning" sign. And there they were, right next to the cash register. What's up with that? They were carefully arranged along with the Monistat. Someone in Duane Read has a sense of humour.
Oh the test? Negative of course. What were you thinking?! 10dpo. Not a chance.
Hey, it's a time-honored tradition, peeing on a stick at 10dpo. Don't be embarrassed. ;-)
It's still early, wait a couple of days on those other two...
Posted by: susie | Wednesday, 29 June 2005 at 01:46