This morning in traffic I proved I can cry and change lanes at the same time.  The threshold between tolerable and intolerable is so low when one is on hormones, and the wait between the day-before-the-pregnancy-test and the day-of-the-pregnancy-test is cavernous.  It's a terrible combination.  Fortunately, it's Valentine's Day, so there's an ample supply of brownies and chocolate around.  I know I don't need the caffeine, but I do need comfort, and that's spelled B-R-O-W-N-I-E. (This is an edit to my original post: I thought I should add in that last night I dreamed I was having my nails done by Olivia Newton John, who was pregnant -- at first I thought she had just gained weight -- and she said that women who were pregnant should not get their nails done.  So I excused myself from the salon, saying I didn't like the colors of the nail polish selection.  In another part of the dream I was running up and down the stairs of a theater, trying to remember the lyrics of the song I was singing, and as I ran my nipples hurt a ton!  When I woke up, there was no pain, and no theater, and no fingernail polish!...)