The Issues

Dear Diary,

I've realised that Operation Flu has some flaws:

1. Sick people don't appreciate their personal space being invaded. And they're grouchy, so they're more likely to yell at me for getting in their face.
2. I can't take most flu medications in case they hurt the (theoretical) baby. So I'm going to be even grouchier than everyone else.
   
3. Who has sex when they're sick anyway?
   

Operation Flu: In Action

Dear Diary,

I decided to start Operation Flu today, because Georgia was at work after 3 days off and she still looks like hell. I needed to talk to her anyway, so I sat next to her at her desk, she brought up the schedule onscreen, and I tried to unobtrusively lean in and breathe in her germs wherever possible. On the third subtle breathe-in, she frowned at me and said, "What are you DOING? Get the **** out of my personal space, you freak!" and stormed off to get a cup of coffee. Whoops.

Maybe I could steal her coffee mug after she's used it?

Sarah

Dear Diary,

Sarah just called to tell me she's preggers. My first thought was - "Crud, she beat me."

Not only am I a bad friend, I'm turning into one of those psycho, bitter TTC women who gnash their teeth whenever someone looks happy. Is there a drug that can help me?

Operation Flu

Dear Diary,

Here's the plan: get sick around ovulation time, so that my immune system doesn't kill off the sperm, or the egg, or whatever the hell it's doing.

I'm ovulating in a week's time... which means I have about 5 days, given an incubation period of 48 hours.

But what if I'm too healthy and don't catch the flu? Maybe I should stop taking vitamin C.

Immune System

Dear Diary,

I've been doing some research, and I discovered something interesting...

Sometimes our immune systems can be TOO GOOD, and kill off sperm or fertilised-cell-cluster because it seems to be a threat. I've just seen 5 or 6 stories from women who got pregnant when they were sick.

I have an idea.

Warpath

Dear Diary,

Right, that's it. I'm not pregnant AGAIN.

This means war.

AF-Day

Dear Diary,

AF is due today... and so far, no sign!

I'm not going to get excited.
I'm not going to get excited.
I'm not going to get excited.

Darn - I'm excited.

Coles

Dear Diary,

I went to the supermarket today. While I was waiting in line at the checkout, a woman in her 80s - I swear! - tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, "Excuse me... are you the lady from People magazine?" I could've died. I should have said no straightaway, but I was turning red so fast she would've known anyway, right? She grinned at me and whispered, "I do that every night - works like a charm, doesn't it?" All I could do was nod dumbly as she chuckled lecherously and wandered away.

Does my grandma do stuff like that? It would explain the broken hips...

Fanmail

Dear Diary,

Hey wow, I did get fanmail! About 50 letters. Here's an example:

Dear Naked Lady,
I am very interestd in auto-erotism. Do you run classes? Did you make video? I can pay lots.
I love you,
Mark

Oh dear. Here's another:

You are a pervert and a freak. God will punish you, whore of Babylon!
Kind regards,
Francine

(surely not as much as he'll punish you for reading People magazine?)

Cravings

Dear Diary,

Time to ignore the court case, the photos, and the general humiliation for a second. Anyway, the sniggers have died down at work lately.

I've been getting the weirdest cravings and anti-cravings. I don't want coffee anymore... the smell nauseates me. I keep wanting fruit and vegies... this morning I ate fruit for breakfast. Just fruit. I must be pregnant. Lots of pregnant woman get weird changes in their diet as soon as they're pregnant.

WOOHOO!

Photo

Dear Diary,

Well... on the bright side, they can't print it in the newspaper.

On the down side, they can print it in People magazine. Apparently I was in the middle of an ancient Eastern ritual akin to auto-eroticism. Sigh.

I wonder if I'll get fanmail?

Court - the Whole Story

Dear Diary,

I think I'm composed enough now to explain what happened.

John side-swiped a car in the roundabout fiasco, right? Well, when he went over to apologise to the other driver, he noticed a couple of those old leather suitcase-bag things that doctors always used to carry around - according to TV, anyway. Not long afterwards, the guy took off in his one-side-mirrored car and was soon chased by a police car.

It turned out that he was a drug dealer... a fairly stupid one, I would've thought. He had a few kilograms of assorted illegal drugs in those bags, and he obviously hadn't been keeping a low profile because the police knew exactly where he was and when he'd have the stuff. I'm surprised he wasn't on his way to the airport to catch a plane for Bali.

Because John saw the bags on his backseat, John became a witness for the court case. So, the jury needed to hear how he came to see those bags. So John explained that he'd sideswiped the Drug Baron's car because he was feeling dizzy after circling a roundabout numerous times in order to get the car acting as a giant centrifuge to see if it'd help his wife get pregnant. Then the horrible defense barrister asked for the police report of the incident to be read out in court, so that the jury had a further idea of the reliability of this witness... and so the whole court, TV cameras and all, heard all about me lying on the back seat of the car after having sex, with my legs in the air doing bicycle movements, and flashing a police officer. You can see why I don't think I'll ever live it down. But it gets worse... the media blew it all out of proportion and added all sorts of extra, juicy details. Hardly a day goes by without a lurid story about our sexual exploits in one newspaper or the other. Yesterday we'd just had sex and I was carefully doing my upside-down cycling when I saw a sudden flash of light. A media photographer had used a ladder to reach our fourth-storey window and taken a photo of me, naked, bulgy and doing weird upside-down exercises. I hate to think what he's going to do with it. They can't print it in the paper... right?

Court

Dear Diary,

I'm still too traumatised to tell the whole story of the court case. Obviously the guy in the car that John hit, was the 'Drug Baron'. But when I think of the court case, all I can do is picture John lying on the judge's table demonstrating my upside-down pedalling manoeuver...

My life is over.