So, my results have come in and the answer is negative. I’m not sure how I feel about the news. I should be relieved, shouldn’t I? But I’m not really sure how I feel. What does that mean, then? What’s wrong with me? What in God’s name did I do to my hormones and I sure hope I can fix it… let it be known that I am never, ever skipping a period ever, ever again. Ever. No. I don’t care what I have to miss, never, ever again. Too much hassle, too much insanity.

I don’t really want to go to the next appointment they have set for Friday. I really, really don’t want to have to pay for another senseless visit. Especially when my yearly check-up is on the 26th. So that’s three of these damn exams. I’ve had enough people staring at my business, thanks. Can we stop now? He’s just going to lecture me on crap I already know and I swear to God, if he calls me “kiddo” again, I’ll scream. I know I look young, I know it’s hard to comprehend I’m really twenty-two, but I am. Please treat me with respect as a patient paying for your shit. It’s coming out of my pocket, not the insurance company’s. Trust me, I wish it was.

I just really hope the fiancé hears something from from the WV State Police Department next week. Please, please, PLEASE! That would be awesome. Because I want to leave, like, now. And as much as I love and adore his parents, I don’t want to mooch off them. I want to at least be freaking married. Even if I’m no longer even looking forward to it anymore… I just need some decent, good news right now. Really, really bad. How many times have I typed really? Way too many times, I’d wager.

Two weeks until the fiancé comes back. I don’t want to go back to work, but I do want to see him. It’s been two freaking months and that’s two months too long, especially when we’re used to seeing one another every day. Sigh.

The best thing to come out of today was the fact that I was right, I haven’t gained a single pound, in fact… I’ve shed several since I’ve come home. Very nice.

My freaking arm still hurts. I hate blood tests, hate.

If I hadn’t already bought shoes and a skirt from G.A.P. and Old.Navy (periods to prevent google), I’d want to buy more. Actually, I want to buy more anyway. Vic.toria.Secr.et’s soft collection, even sans robe, is very tempting but ridiculously expensive. Sigh.