I’m casually sitting by my desk on a Thursday evening after more than 10 hours of sitting by my desk professionally. My mind doesn’t want to write, so this will be a short note before I start packing for tomorrow's bird-watching trip.
Yesterday I went to my home district for the only catholic mass I attend, the mass for my deceased father. The anniversary of his death was 2 months ago, but with priest changes, there is apparently a need to schedule intentions a couple of months in advance, something that wasn’t the case before.
This led to the visit to my childhood home I legally own 50%. In between being gifted chocolate for my 25th birthday, I informed my family of the planned egg cell extraction I will undergo in 2 months.
I was reluctant to share the news as I was afraid that invasive, expensive, and not-solving-a-life-threatening-situation would be frowned upon. But I remembered that when my mother was my age, she hid a medical procedure from her mother for the same reason. Breaking a pattern?
I don’t know, but I’m glad I said it. Makes me a bit calmer in the year of changing jobs, fixing teeth, and doing things to benefit the future me.
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