Having just been foiled in my attempts to celebrate our national holiday in a different way than usual, because they've closed off most of the Tiergarten because of overcrowding (at least according to the announcements on the S-Bahn) , I've decided to fall back on my usual behaviour: Lazing around at home.
Of course this will result in the usual temporal disorientation that tends to follow holidays in the middle of the week. But as I have to work the weekend this shouldn't matter too much in the end.
And only part of the work on the weekend will be the shift of emergency vet (sorry, I don't think I'll get tired of calling myself that anytime soon, we get little enough of respect from the bosses and the clients, I sometimes need to use big words to describe my job at least here), the other part will be helping out with the organization of the next continuing education module (big words again. We're required to help with the refreshments and the cleaning. But we get to sit in on the lectures as well). On dermatology of all things. I foresee a lot of psychosomatic scratching in my future.
On the TMI-front I really shouldn't complain, because periods without any cramping or discomfort seem to be a thing of envy, but I could really do without my body trying to convince me every five minutes of the utter fuckworthiness of the Stupid Crush.
It's as if my body has decided to use every missed breeding opportunity as a chance to complain about the lack of sex it's getting.
Stupid body. It should know by now that associating sex in any way with procreation will only result in it getting less of it.